I wish they had told me what it was like
To have people devour your body, but
Pick around your mind
Like a painting that they found distasteful
But tolerated because it was visually appealing
Or a main course that they tried because they heard it tasted good

I wish that they had told me of regret and pain
And that they didn't think that charisma was in the sway of hips
But rather in the tone of the voice and the velvet of the words
Because I looked striking that night
But no one wanted to speak of externalities
But rather gawk like Tantalus at the apple