Mon corps mon temple…

My body is a wardrobe
Were i hang my lone coat on my shoulders
i pin my pants on the waist
And stack my shoes all the way down there
Were my feet stand
Sometimes with socks
Sometimes they have holes
Sometimes they have pebbles
Sometimes they are worn on the heels
So normally i don’t put shoes
i use my feet to walk like I’m supposed to

There are drawers on my face
Were i store food
Just so it can rot safe and smoothe
i store noise in my ears
Lest silence wake my slaggard mind
In my eyes i store the rest of the world
Like what would happen to porn pics if i didn’t hide them there
What would happen to blue skies and dampy lakes

i have to do it,
Just so the world can stay the same
So that i can stay sane
i don’t put anything in my brain, empty!
So… my nose is exclusive to three things
i mean its my haven, i can’t stick what will fit there
So i put oxygen, smoke which a contrast
Ensuite, je stocke tout l’odeur de PET de mon camarade de chambre et ma petite amie…
(Then i store all the fart smell from my roommate and my girlfriend)

So as i said my body is a temple
Where i worship stereotypes with my skin
It’s a fortress, of evil pleasures
Well chronicled with bad tattoos


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