My body, should be my temple
But why does it belong to someone else?
It belongs to the man who stared too long
It belongs to the man hitting on me in front of his wife
It belongs to the man who put his hand on my ***, even though he couldn’t be bothered with knowing my name
It belongs to the man who kept asking after I just said no
My body isn’t my body
It belongs to men I barely know

Cold linoleum and hushed voices,
**** tests and strip searches.
Accept their help or don't make it.
Recondition to become a sheep.

Control yourself, only you can do it.
But don't find relief unless permitted.
It might be your flesh but don't scar it.
Eat these pills but don't enjoy them.

Purge what they don't preach.
Deny your soul a sense of self.
Rely on acceptance and kneel at their
     feet.
Molded into an institution's dream.

Time blurs until your release.
You don't recognize home or scent.
Remain tamed for years to come,
until their chains gratefully come
     undone.

Creature of habit and comfort
slipping back into an old phase.
Relief swells with an epiphany-
Rehabilitation has always been fiction.

Shiny stars and clouds of dust.
****** tension, full of lust.
A simple touch ignites a fire
deep within my body's desire.
"Ignore the heart!" my body cries,
and set your worries to the side.
Nature does as nature calls
so slam my body against the wall,
and navigate my body-say.
Oh, please, fulfill my pleasures way.

The location of the biological clock is complex.
Situated somewhere  between my body
and everyone else's business.
Turning my womb into a property
everyone feels free to voice their opinion on. 

As an elder woman turns to me and says:
"Now you're the only one left! Surely you'll be next." 
Pressure disguised in encouragement. 
One I am hesitant to slander, so I walk away, 
politely, as if it were just a simple fender ******. 

Remarks and expectations thrown at me.
Everyone's opinion picking scabs to wounds 
inside me nobody even knows exist.
Irrecoverable lacerations I will carry with me 
until the end of my days. 

Tik Tok goes the clock; perhaps it was a knock?
The message always the same: "Hurry up or you'll fall behind." 
I slowly reach for the instrument measuring my time,
I tempt my fate a little while longer 
by reluctantly snoozing my biological clock.

My body is my home.
Pink lips that give out fake smiles,
Voice that has spoken up and been shut down,Voice that has told many lies
Hands that have written what I dare not say, hands that have been used to pick up my mother broken pieces and putting them back together
Legs that have ran for miles but still haven't gotten away
Brown eyes that have cried many nights but still father never noticed why
Arms that were used to hug my mother when she was broken, arms that were used to hug myself when I felt alone
Brain that over thinks things and makes me doubt myself
Heart that has loved many who don't deserve it, heart that has been shattered into a million pieces but beating to this day
Fists that clench up when I can't speak
Body that I have hated, that I have loved
Body that has been bruised, cut, beaten, hurt, scared, don't worry because he loved you.

Darkness
This darkness in my heart can not be filled
as they rip my heart piece to piece
The darkness in my heart reaches out to my body
My body is lifeless
My heart is now gone
My body goes with it
And me ?
For god has brought me home
My soul is pained
Instantly feeling regret
for I wish I was alive
But there's no going back
My lights have passed
My heaven is gone
For I am not in hell...
But I am now gone