Everybody stares at you, but I don’t.
You court my look, expecting lover’s eyes.
I avert my gaze.
I see right through you.

Everybody listens to you, but I don’t.
Your voice thrills and delights them, like the prettiest bird.
When I hear you speak, I plug my ears tight.
I hear all the things you don’t say.

Everybody feels you, but I don’t.
“Her skin! Her hair! Her waist!” they rave and grasp, like pre-teens at an arena.
They don’t know you’re plastic, hollow.
I wouldn’t touch you to bury you.

Everybody devours you, but I don’t.
“We could eat you up!” they gush, as they stomp and carouse.
They don’t know you’re rotten all the way in.
I’d rather starve than have one more taste of you.

Everybody loves you, but I never will.
Not anymore.