When in Rome

His words snapped at my skin

Crackling flames, fizzling each syllable

He told me it was for my own good

To be broken

Bent out of shape, and my name

Scrap wood for his tongue

He burned me over and over

Telling me all the great cities burn

And my cathedral needed to be discarded

Rebuilt into his beliefs

When i told him

This isn’t a confessional but my body

He told me, he owned it, manifest destiny

I tore up his picture, and he screamed heresy

I told him, funny thing

All belief systems are reconstructed at some point in history

And his name was no different

Like Nero, I watched him burn

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