most of them but one

they all want to destroy me, with their eyes 

and their hair, and their dresses.
the ones with the unique ways and pretty steps.
with their jewelry, and lace and perfume.
they stab into me like a Thanksgiving day turkey 

fresh out of the oven.
they cut me in slices and halves for all to see.
me, served up, the main entrée, savory bites, 

mouths watering with anticipation.
appetites for my mind, my soul, my essence.
their knives are their eyes, cutting fast and deep.
their forks are their hugs, their flirtation, their ways. 

they all want to destroy me, with words

they want to mold me into the perfect entree

into the person that i am obviously not

into a person that does not even exist upon this earth

until then, they all want to destroy me

all of them but one

started a few days ago, finished today