At Your Own Risk

“Treat your body as a temple”

The temple more like a used condom

Needs tossed upon the floor

Full of someone else’s desire

An empty shell, serving a purpose of suppression

The hope of protection, foiled by the prick

If torn, it serves no purpose

So we slice and dice, stuff and purge

Hoping to numb outside in, rotting inside out

Praying to release through repression, building a house lacking doors

Stupid enough to be shocked when nothing changes as it repeats

Smart enough to peel layers of useless skins to see

My temple is no temple, but a house of hauntings

My heart an attic stuffed of memories and ghosts wailing

Dark and cold, lit only by a hearth of blame and fiery regret

Dust of tears piled, long overdue for the trash

Yet here I sit, sorting rubbish, thinking I can un-wreck the wreckage

Climbing up spiral staircases leading downwards

As Father Time beckons forward, I’ve broken my neck looking back

As Mother Earth begs open, I build my walls brick by brick

With bloody mortar from skeletons, I build the sarcophagus I call home

The mind of my house, turned ruler of my heart, a dictator blinded by visions

My temple where the future happened yesterday

Today is a gift of the ghosts, and I’ve gone mad amongst the madness

A temple where Gods come to weep with confusion

How can beauty be so ugly?

How can love hurt so sweetly?

How can so much darkness hide in light?

Bodies, minds, and hearts disposable

A prophylactic recycled from a dance long since finished

With I love you’s given grandly, I love me is lost in translation

No one can love what is neglected

Dismissed and disregarded as necessary evil

Life no longer a gift, a journey required

A practical exterior to hide the chaos within

As we all smile with innocence and beckon benignly

A haunted house with laughs and screams,

Ghosts and ghouls party hearty

Enter at your own risk