What am I?
An Object.
You hold onto my "intelligent brain" because that's a rarity you think my gender functions without!
You "admire" my body and want to suck on my flesh till you're satisfied and I'm sore.
You want to "be with me" because I'm a trophy to be acquired in your collection.
You "love me" because I made you love yourself.
You desire me because you have never HAD someone "like me".
You want to OWN me
You want to IMPREGNATE me
You want to BRAND me
You want to POSSESS me
You want to satisfy YOURSELF.
Have you EVER even considered,
maybe,
ever,
That I may not be an object,
That I may not just be breasts and ass?
That I may not just be a tiny waist to hold on to
That I may not just be a pretty set of puckered lips you can lick?
That my brain may not just exist to make you feel intelligent.
That I too feel.
I'm NOT an object.
Understand that,
Appreciate that,
Believe that,
Embody that,
and I may just bless you with my divinity.
You maybe surprised, but I matter more than YOU think I do.
