From A Temple To The Grave Poem by belinda mrwebi

It may have been my body you were looking at, my thighs my breast and all you perceived to be easy enough to invade.
You may have looked and imagined how my body would be a temple for your fantasies.
It may have been my sexuality you thought you were taking,
But for me, this body was my first home.
The one place in the world my soul could dwell without fear or reservation.
This body was my temple and a dwelling place for the spirit and life the almighty gifted.
Today, I stand in front of the mirror with deep resentment and contemplation of where else can my spirit settle away from this polluted body.
Wondering if I did end my life today, would my soul carry the wounds of this body to the next life?
And if I were to appear in front of God, how would I explain that I let another break me down to the point of death.
Do angels even know the pain of being raped, would they understand my story?
And should I keep this life, where would my place of safety be if my soul is not protected in this very body.
Where do I stumble on peace again, to whom do I talk to? Where do I go for rest?
I need to rest!
Who will understand the pain of wanting to live but hoping that you would trade your body for another, ...and even if I had the opportunity to be born again in a deferent body, How do I reconcile with the wounds engraved in my spirit?
...I'm looking for answers but in my quiet place I know there are none.
I'm looking for a home so my spirit can rest safely but I know my body is now longer that place.
While you may have thought, you violated me sexually.
You did not realise that you turned my body, my temple into a grave.
For my spirit is dead, this body is no longer my temple but an empty vandalised grave.