My Temple

My Body is a temple and I am the god that rules it.
And I will be damned if I let a pretty boy with shiny hair and a crooked smile worship at my temple.

My temple will not be destroyed by the words of a pretty boy or desecrated by the fingerprints of one.
It will not be violated by their actions or torn down by the way they choose to treat it.

MY Body is a temple made up of walls built from angry comments made by pretty boys with shiny hair and crooked smiles from when I said no. 
MY Body is made of walls because I have been raised in a society that causes pretty boys with crooked smiles and shiny hair to believe that they have a right to MY Body, although access to it is a privilege given to few.
MY Body is made up of walls because when pretty boys with shiny hair and crooked smiles look at MY Body as if it is meat in the school hallways, I refuse to let them see that it hurts me every time. And that though I refuse to break eye contact, so that I can establish any bit of dominance that I may have over MY Body, MY eyes will well with the tears that should belong to you.
MY Body is made up of walls because I refuse to let MY Body be seen as anyone else's property, because it is MY temple and the only ones allowed to worship it are the ones I can trust to treat it with respect.

MY Body is MY temple and will not be seen as anything but.