Greedy Men
Here they come.
Hungry eyes like open mouths.
Lusting.
Taking. Taking. Taking.
Their hands never tremble with doubt,
only demand more of me.
I know my place, a vessel,
a thing to be filled and emptied,
again and again and again.
They reach for me like I owe them my breath,
and I give it,
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to keep something for myself.
Whenever they want.
There is no adoration here.
No questions asked.
I am pliant. I am present.
I am pliant. I am present.
They leave me hollow,
less careful each time they use me,
Like I’m already broken.
Am I already broken?
Stained with their sweat and seed,
I try to scrub the stench of them from my skin,
but it clings
a film of all the times I mistook greed for love.
I want to wake up,
but this isn’t a nightmare.
This is just the life I’ve lived.
And somewhere beneath my ruined temple,
a quiet voice still whispers
You were never meant to be consumed.
Copyright © Allison Gates | Year Posted 2025
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