You can’t outrun the body You can philosophize it Call it illusion Call it projection Call it a simulation running behind the eyes You can rename the pain Turn it cosmic Turn it karmic Turn it quantum But the pulse in your chest Still answers to gravity You can say it’s all consciousness Say you’ll shift timelines Say you’ll wake up somewhere cleaner But the muscle in your jaw Still remembers The shoulders still brace The stomach still tightens The skin still heats You can build a cathedral in the mind Stack theories like marble columns Declare the senses unreliable But the nervous system keeps receipts You can try to levitate above it Float into clarity Dissolve into light Yet the body waits Patient Unmoved Not against you Not sabotaging you Just asking Feel it Feel the charge Feel the tremor Feel the ache without narrating it You can’t transcend a sensation You haven’t tolerated You can’t outthink adrenaline You can’t debate cortisol You can’t negotiate with a clenched fist The body is not the enemy It’s the archive It stored the shock So you could survive And when you stop trying to override it It softens When you stop calling it ego It becomes signal When you stop trying to escape the chapter It becomes memory You can imagine new ground You can picture open skies You can see yourself restored And if it feels steady Not desperate Not bargaining That’s not escape That’s integration You can hold possibility Without gripping it You can want support Without chaining it to one story You can say If it returns, it returns If it doesn’t, I remain Because the body is calm now Not chasing Not collapsing You can’t outrun the body But you can walk beside it And when you do The chapter closes Without you forcing the book shut
