At the Trial of God, You Will Meet Your Body

Hoiyan

Today, I found out that God exists. Not as a being or a whisper or a state of mind; God is the torment I feel as this limp body–my body–is splayed naked on a steel tray before me. That foreign, bare chest displayed for approaching angels to leer at, dilapidated stretch marks clutching onto uninvited curves, a physicality sectioned off based merely on chromosomal affairs.

I beg for mercy, I beg for mother dearest mother please help me. Instead, she stands amongst the angels, grips burning incense, and pierces through the flesh, hushed prayers slip through God’s upturned lips.

Today, I face my own body as a trial of terror. I scream and shriek at the angels to cover it all, I scream and wail at the disconnections from a blurry idealization to the sight I’m facing, I scream and lacerate the wrong body I am to be put into.

I draw two incisions for a beautifully scarred, scarlet chest; refined dimensions curated to perfection–the body that is finally all I could be, an ethereally bloody figure stripped of femininity. A sigh of liberation for my flawless product, but my handiwork reversed at once for the glory of God’s design.

With wet hands and glossy eyes, I beg for mother again but she stays with the angels to stare. She looks to God, then tells me that is your predestined body, and I scream in mourning as the torment that is God dispatches my flesh into our today.

Today, I found out I had died in front of myself before I was born.

Peace on the Horizon

by Lara Paul Photograph shot on iPhone 11 Pro

This image is a testament to the resilience of modern humanity—who work tirelessly to survive well, and who retreat to nature for healing. The moment captured begs us to wonder; Why are we so drawn to the healing spaces of nature? And, when we are ready, What is waiting for us over the next horizon?