they have their hands all over my body from miles away across the country no, across the globe they have groped my chest like children with a shiny, new toy wrapped chains around my stomach kept the key out of reach deciding themselves that this is their right
they have given me an impossible standard and no matter how much self love I have i still think of starving this chapel until what protects my body melts away like a popsicle in a hot summer's heat i hear behind closed doors the way they can define me in a single word they way they reduce me to a single caricature
. . .
it is scary how many of you do not realize that you are the "they" i speak of