#Not All Men

You feast on me as I starve myself,
You feast on me as I breathe in hard to fit the space you left,
You feast on me as you push up against me,
Against my honour.

You feast on me until I speak off-script,
Until I answer back.
Then you spit me out -
I'm soured, spoiled, sullied.
Yet I'd seemed so palatable
when you ordered me.

Am I now not to your liking?