sanctuary
My body is not a temple; I don’t want it worshiped. My body is a tree. Throughout the year, it sprouts, blooms, and withers. Once, someone carved their initials into it and walked away, not realizing the damage they inflicted. Not realizing the scars they left. They are a part of my structure. I grow around them, with them. I have made them my foundation. I have rooted away their PaiN.
