Devoured

Bugs demolish my skin like the bark of a tree, They burrow in, make their homes; They’re using my own shell better than me. I feel their will to live in each rough bite; Not human, but hole-y nest of the termites. I’ll allow them to use my body for their health, Emotionally hollow, why not accept my true self? Let my body be a temple that worships destruction; And the priests? The six-legged who aided in its construction. Sinners will pray to me i’ll be the worshipped defiled, And to think that i was, as all, once an innocent child.