“

Your body is a home.

You will treat it like a rental 
when you press your bones together
and your thighs apart
like they do not belong.
You will trash the place
and lose your sanity
when you concave your stomach
and plant seeds between your ribs.

Your body is a home.

Every hope and dream
will be ripped to shreds
as rivers run blue to red
this was never supposed to happen.
Everything will burn
when you despise your existence,
when your mother
cries over your decay.

Your body is a home.

You will open the doors widely
for every John, Dick, Harry, and Mike
who waltzes by with a coked-out smile
and greasy hands that slides down
your brailled spine.
He will rush in like he owns the place,
but he does, doesn’t he?

Your body is a home
and you are doing your damnedest 
to watch it fall and crumble.

”