Monsters Of Our Reality

They surround us;
Clawing and gnawing at our sleeves,
Begging for skin.

As we tear apart inside,
Our skin begins to thin
As they proceed to try,
And satisfy what they call a 'need'.

Within our grasp, I exceed
In efforts to attain a purpose, that is my need.
My need is not to be accepted by monsters.

All they deserve are table scraps,
But they end up with valuable people somehow;
People ready, impatient,
Waiting.

People just caught up in some moment,
That isn’t as special as they dreamt it would be.
Some just give up on hope,
And just get the pain over with.

People are put up on a pedestal,
To be judged, admired as some prize;
Like a club pack meat deal at a grocery store.

Some resist, some give up
They begin to think it a luxury
To be desired in such a petty way.

This, to my dismay
Is the battle I fight alone.
I linger, I wander
Amongst these hungry, thirsty savages;
Just lurking, waiting
To take advantage of any potentially vulnerable moment I may display…