Undesirable

I'd change the way you look at me.

I get it

Undesirable.

You're better because you're skin doesn't have a mark.

While mine has more words than I speak in a day embedded into the flesh.

Undesirable.

Your body was made by the hands of God.

Mine was made in a factory.

Holes plugged up by metal.

Undesirable.

Every Sunday you sit in the rows of pews.

I stand in the rows of shelves.

You listen to the word of God.

I read the words of man.

Undesirable.

But listen up Baby.

Inked and Educated.

My body is my temple like those pews are yours.

And I'm going to paint the solar system across every inch of my temple.

You be plain.

I'll be triple chocolate with a swirl of vanilla, dash of hazlenut and a touch of Razz-ma-tazz.

Chocolate is good but triple chocolate is better when you lick the bowl.

That's what my mama always said.

You listen to what your god spoon feeds you.

Carrots. Hell. Peas. Heaven. Beets.

Keep eating.

It's all the same thing.

I'll debate with my god and lick the bowl like my mama said.

So take a long look at me.

And a glance back at you.

Undesirable.