My body is not your home,
you can’t just leave all your…things here,
and come and go as you please;
They leave with you if you’re leaving –
they only stay
if I choose to agree.
My mind is not your dumpster –
You can’t fill it with all your junk
and expect me to save us both
from the toxic spillage of your detritus.
Besides, there’s no room in here for nonsense;
It’s no place for trash.
My heart is no trinket of yours
You won’t mistreat it like some plaything;
Amusing yourself only until the “newness” wears off,
only to toss it onto the haphazard pile
of other discarded toys
thrown recklessly aside once
you’re bored with them
or tire of playing foolish games.
My soul is not your lighthouse;
It can’t shelter you from the storms
you refuse to face,
there’s no refuge here for your darkness.
My spirit is not your luminary –
I’m not responsible for banishing your
The currents you row so avidly against may
float your boat –
But they won’t capsize mine.