Your Stamp Of Approval

damaged goods
every one of us
I could cry out
"don't look at me!"
but I objectify myself
the most


on display
demons striking poses
in the limelight
somehow these mutants
terrify me more
than the ones I carried
in the shadows


still a shy child
shrinking from human contact
but still screaming
"look at me!"
unsure of whose validation
I am seeking


I need that brutal mindfucking
the shock of time spent
by someone tracing the outlines
of my heart
and devouring me whole