Your Body is a wonderland,

Did you know?

Your Body is a wonderland,

At least that’s what I’ve been told.

Your Body is a paradise,

A true heaven to know.

Your Body is a tapestry,

A woven history,

Of blood and pain with you as the only end game.

Your Body is a wonderland,

But don’t for a second think that it’s your own.

My Body is a muddy brown pound,

Not some worshipped ground,

Where every industry calls me a monastery,

For not appreciating the acknowledgement they give to my tapestry.

So strip me of all my filters,

And all the war paint that I deceive

And you might find a wonderland,

Or maybe you’ll see the transplant of my sanity,

Or my safety,

Because the real me was taken away

By  an entire industry, manipulated for one man.

The real me is a strip tease on a Tuesday night,

In alley so deprived of light,

And a girl who doesn’t want to be impolite,

But it turns out you weren’t a knight.

Just another lonely traveler,

Here to take something specular.

Because my Body is just another wonderland to glorify your night.