You may have this body,
You think that it’s yours
To keep
To do with as you see fit,
To kick to one side when you’re done with,
To worship when you’re bored.

You may think that this body is yours,
That I am but a mere pest
One that is too tired to stand up to you,
One who is so bruised and battered that
she is just a husk of the woman she used to be.