object of affection

they praise me for my beauty
and hunt me for my pride
the world wars against me—
my purity, the prize.

my blood you covet dearly,
its loss is my demise.
the object of your affection
is nothing but a guise.

used and then discarded,
once you have had your way.
no longer well regarded,
repudiated, i the prey.

my worth is in my body
and scorned is my mind.
you claim i’m hysterical,
insane
if i have the audacity to say no
to your little game.

you can’t blame me for breaking
after you and your inescapable systems
tore me apart
leaving me shattered and shaking
forced to pick up my own pieces.

my humanity is clear
i promise i’m a person too.
you made me into just a vessel
for you and only you.

i need to be stunning,
pretty as can be.
yet you despise me, screaming vanity.
how dare i play the role you cast me in?

i hate your leering stare
eyes follow me everywhere i go
my soul cries out for mercy
cracking beyond repair.

my heart is filled with love,
and you know my mind has multitudes.
yet still i am nothing
but an object for you
and your shallow enjoyment.

the masses shout from rooftops,
yet call me crass and rude.
you aren’t welcome,
can’t you see that your very existence
intrudes?
we despise you,
you whore, you prude.