deepundergroundpoetry.com

Immunity

Here I stand before these snarling pigs,
their only want and need being the same in my eyes.
My body is nothing but a piece of meat to them.
Isn't it funny that I'm use to it?
Whether I'm on one side of the fence or the other?
I'm not trying to brag, trust me this is a curse, not a blessing.
I do not want to be like this.
Edible to the naked eye but when they try to take a bite,
it doesn't do anything to me.
They leave nothing but a scratch on me,
when they want me to become one of them
or just eat me until there is nothing left but my bones and dust.
I can smell their rotting flesh.
I can taste their bitter breath.
I am not meat.
I am not something to eat.
They think they can have me.
But none of them can,
not the good or the bed.
The fast or the slow.
The dumb or the smart.
The weak or the strong.
They are monsters.
And they are pigs.
I am a lady.
I am human.
And to any of your attempts at having me,
whether you be man or beast.
I am immune.