My Body is no Longer his Temple

Tue, 01/07/2014 - 16:50 -- jgweier


Do not tell me to smile, I cannot.

He takes away my innocence, my hope.

His fingers on my skin feel like black rot.

They tell us that they cannot change, just cope.


I cannot be at the top of my class,

I am not a boss because I'm the bitch.

Answer the phone, you are fragile like glass.

Back straightened, smile on, I cannot unhitch.


Heels hurt my feet.  I need this job, sir.

The cramps are back, they hurt, but I must dance.

Nothing else to do, for I am a 'her'.

With this body, I never had a chance.


One day I will have that strength and respect.

One day I will not be Mrs. Object.








Guide that inspired this poem: 


MVP-Most Valuable Poet

powerfully written

continue to build off your creative mind

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741