Your body is

A temple. But what happens

When this temple is full

Of lurking spirits, trembling from within

Watching watchers, taking pictures

Putting you on display

My body is a temple.

But what happens, when my temple is set on fire

From my head to my feet

Burning, seething within

Forever.

Our bodies are our temple

But this temple refuses to stay calm

All my statues are down

And the air fades to a light, roaring black.

My life clasped to my hands as I burn

Even when I look up towards the gates

That want to free me

Soot fills my eyes

Smoke fills my lungs

And In my demise,

I still want to believe

That my body is a temple.

My body is a temple

But if my body, is my temple

Ebony Osho (They/She) and Jay (They/Them)

Then why can’t I control it’s movements?

Why can’t I halt its deepest desires

Find a way to untangle the wires

Relinquish it of the by-standing liars

That tell me my temple will never be mine

But oh hey there, this body, is my temple

And as time passes by, I decorate it as I so please,

Adorn it with the finest paint and sheets

And allow who I please, with open arms

Yes I was given this temple but I rebuilt it

Refurbished it to what you see today

So yes, my body, this body

Is a temple, my temple

I quench the bluest fires

Arrange the wires

And put on a damn good show

For tomorrow, I will clean it yet again.

Ebony Osho (they/she) is a Writer and Poet. You can find more from Ebony on Instagram by following @ebony.osho and on Twitter @vickindasexy

This piece by Ebony is part of UKBP Voices ‘Open Diary’ Series. If you would like to share your story with us, please get in contact with us through email – voices@ukblackpride.org.uk.

VOICES - Ebony Osho (They/She)