My Temple

All my life

I’ve been told

That my body is a temple

 

A temple to take care of

A temple to weigh and weigh and weigh again

A temple to maintain

Keep beautiful

Keep pristine

Keep private

 

And

 

All my life

I’ve been told

That I cause him to stumble

 

That my God-given chest

Makes him think things

He shouldn’t be thinking

 

That my God-sculpted curves

Make him look here

When he should be looking

There

 

That my shape

Shapes his mind

In a way

That it shouldn’t

Be shaped

 

All my life

I’ve been told

To be careful

To keep him from stumbling

 

To keep him from seeing me

And doing damage to himself

 

From putting his eyes

His mind

His thoughts

His voice

His hands

On me

And darkening his soul

 

All my life

I’ve been told

That I need

Amazing grace

How sweet the sound

To help me see

How he sees me

So he is not blind

Because of the way

that he desires

Me

 

And today

I can’t help but wonder

If I’m such a temple

Why has he

Not been told?

 

Why am I taught

To help him

And he is not taught

To help himself?

 

Why am I taught

To be different

So that he

Can be normal?

 

Why am I taught

To hide myself

So that he

Doesn’t have to hide

Secrets?

 

What if we taught him

That my body is a temple?

 

What if we filled him in

on our little

Not dirty

Not scandalous

Not sexy

Secret?

 

That my temple

Cannot be entered

Without invitation

Permission

Consent

Okay

 

That my temple

Cannot be purchased

Coaxed

Convinced

Without my mind

Telling my curves

That it’s okay

We’re okay

 

That my temple

Is not a dwelling place

For him to lay his head

Without me saying

“You look tired. Rest here.”

 

That my temple

Is not a prize

To be claimed

Boasted

Posted

Photographed

Instagrammed

Locker-room talked

 

That my temple

Is not

A public domain

Where any can come

And any can leave

Without first

Paying respect

 

What if he were taught

That my temple

Is not his temple?

 

That my temple

Does not answer

To him?

 

That my temple

Does not

Need to hide its

Beauty

Desire

Form

Details

In order to make him

Successful in his

Faith?

 

What if we taught him

To respect the temples

Before we taught me

To hide.

 

Amazing grace

How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

 

From this shit.

Hi! I'm Leah. I love writing. Honest, awkward, vulnerable writing. I want to connect with you, so I hope that my writing does just that. Reminder: You are enough. As is.

Leave a Reply

*