Sometimes...

Sometimes I feel like an object. I almost never feel like a person. I feel like an object that is grabbed at, poked at, pulled at, squeezed at, or just looked at. I've come to the point where men only see objects. They don't see people. They don't see the need to just be held and talked to and cooed at. They don't see the insecurities, they don't see the stress, the dismay, the damsel in distress that secretly wants to be held and told everything will be okay, we can get through it together.

Yes, sometimes I feel like an object. But it's just for a few days.