Fifty-Four. From Chaos, Everything.

fromchaoseverything

You meet me in my earth

You meet me in my dirt

You meet me in my mess

You call this a temple

You call this a home.

You live in my pitted stomach

You cry in my choked chest

You rest in my twisted bones

You call this a temple

You call this a home.

When my eyes burned in the mirror

all You said was,

“Holy, you’re a temple. Holy, you’re a home.”