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Set My Body Free

Blog post description.A Blood Moon Spell-Poem for Liberation This poem arrived as a spell for the full blood moon, a ritual in verse form to release anything binding me, anything keeping me caged, anything that isn't mine to carry anymore. For the longest time, my body felt like a prison. Swollen legs from a blocked lymphatic system. Lower back pain like a blade between my vertebrae. Skin that itched like an addict's blood. Vision dimming, headaches arriving like uninvited guests, weight fluctuating wildly. I thought something was broken. But I've come to understand: it was never brokenness. It was a curse... and a gift. The women in my bloodline are shamanic healers. The binding spell passed down through generations wasn't meant to hold us. It was meant to forge us. To make us feel it all, every ailment, every wound, every blocked river, so we could learn the language of healing written in our own flesh. The cage was never meant to keep us trapped. It was meant to make us strong enough to break it. This poem holds that journey. From the weight of chains to the lightness of feathers. From the prison of the body to the temple of the body. From the curse to the gift. From the binding to the breaking. Tonight, under the blood moon, I set my body free. Not as the healer who has arrived, but as the one learning how to heal. Step by step. Breath by breath. Dancing for the first time in a body that's finally unshackled. May this poem be a spell for you too, for whatever you're ready to release, whatever cage you're ready to break, whatever freedom you're ready to claim. 🌕 Write it down. Burn it. Bury it. Let the blood moon pull it all out of you like tides. You are light as a feather. You are unshackled. You are free to dance.

8/27/20261 min read

For the longest time,
My body was a cage
Just like the song says.
It weighed me down,
Anchored me to earth
When all I wanted was to dance
With the one I love.

My fascia tightened like shibari ropes,
Binding me, not in pleasure,
But in pain.
Not in play,
But in prison.
Every breath a negotiation
With my own skin.

My legs swelled from blocked rivers within,
Lymphatic storms turned to stone.
They became boulders,
Dragging me down with every step,
Each movement a war against gravity itself.

My lower back,
A blade tucked between vertebrae,
Stabbing me continuously,
A ghost hand twisting deeper
With every false dawn.

My skin crawled,
Itching like an addict's blood
Begging for a dose
That never came.

My vision dimmed,
Slowly fading like old film.
Headaches arrived like uninvited guests,
Settling in behind my eyes.

My weight fluctuated wildly,
Bipolar in its betrayal,
Never knowing which body
Would greet me in the mirror.

A binding spell cast on the women
In my bloodline,
Passed down through generations
Like an inheritance of chains.

Perhaps it was meant to forge us.
To make us feel it all
Every ailment, every wound,
Every blocked river, every blade
So we could learn the language of healing
Written in our own flesh.

The cage was never meant to hold us.
It was meant to make us strong enough
To break it.

And now,
I have set my body free.


Like a phoenix rising from ashes,
I emerge,
Not as the healer,
But as the one learning
How to heal.

Like a bird released from its cage,
I am light as a feather.
Unshackled.
Free to dance
With the one I love.
Free to move
In ways I never could before.
Free to discover
What this body can do
When it's no longer
A prison.

The curse is broken.
The journey begins.
And I
I am walking forward,
Step by step,
Learning what it means
To be free.