My Body: A Crime Scene
My Body: A Crime Scene
I was told the body is a temple. I was taught to treat my body like a temple. Sacred, Holy, somewhere God resides, somewhere a person can be at peace. But with time, the sacrality has begun to fade. It has become a realm of my internal demons, something sinister.
My body is now more of a crime scene than a temple.
I've put up barricade tapes around me. Of bright "when life gives you lemon" yellow and black. A cautionary measure for the lighthearted.
Some understand and stay away.
Others push right through like the case now belongs to them.
They say they've seen this before.
They say no amount of gore can keep them away.
They say they'll take care of it.
Only to realize it's bloodier than they could've imagined.
Multiple fingerprints, Multiple footprints: An evidence marker placed for every person I let walk all over me, and for every person, I gave my heart only for them to poke my wounds.
Blood: Numerous splatters, but all mine.
Weapons: Some sticks and stones, knives that I willingly handed over hoping they'd protect me, now covered in my blood and, a pen.
Many witnesses: Either dumb or hostile.
Signs of arson: Ashes of everything I burnt down. Pictures, letters, broken promises, false hopes, unfulfilled dreams.
And now, all that's left of me is a chalk outline. Everything else faded, picked apart or withered away.
My body is not a temple anymore. It isn't sacred or pure.
It's not a place I can stand barefoot.
It's now a place where I need a hazmat suit and gloves.
More Posts from Whats-in-a-username and Others
i love when i “make a mental note” of something. it’s gone within 20 seconds
Book: *physically hurts to read* Me: *highly recommends*
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
LIGHTS AND SHADES
All the Polaroids
Once lit with fairy lights,
Now stay in a box,
With not a ray of light.
Love,
just like photos, will surely fade
So I pulled up my walls
And hide behind it's shade.
(29.10.20)
i overthink….therefore….i overam….
recently came across The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket which screams love in every possible way. So I had to make my own version of it. Dramatically speaking: An homage if I may.
The Beatrice Letters: Unsent
I will love you if this is the last time I get to tell you, and I will love you if this is the only time I get to tell you that I do. I will love you as an empress loves her emperor, and as the emperor loves his subjects, and as his subjects love their empire. I love you as a moth loves flame and as flame loves metal. I love you as a warrior loves her sword and as the sword loves to draw blood. I will wait for you as Olaf waits for summer and as a pied cuckoo waits for rain. I will love you if our forever starts today, I will love you if our forever ends today, and I will love you if we never even stood a chance.
I love you as the sun loves the sea and as the sea loves the salt. I will love you as long as it takes to separate the salt from the sea and the salt from my tears. I love you as Shakespeare loves tragedy, and as tragedy follows every hero, and as the hero slowly starts to fall in love with the villain. I will learn to say I love you in every existing language, and then I will learn to speak your love language. I will love you as the poets love the moon and as the moon loves to chase a car. I will love you when you think the world of someone else, I will love you as that world falls apart, and I will love you as my world falls apart. I will love you when my world is full of light, and I will love you from the shadows of my mind.
Finding that one scene in a book that you love to read again and again because you just can’t get over it is the best part of reading in my opinion
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