Feast

I’m not attracted to men
In fact I’m absolutely terrified of most men

I’m terrified when I go on walks on my own to clear my mind and I’m walking past one 
It’s as if I’m faced against a lion who wants to devour and feast upon my flesh and bones
Towering over me and much larger
I know I would not stand a chance against such creature at a time of feasting
I’m on a sliver platter, it’s dinner time and I’m the meat
I can feel their pericing eyes burn through my chest, through my skirt
As if they’re only thought at that very moment wasnt my age or me but it was that they were so hungry because he is men and I am not. 

I’m so terrified of men that I have to sped up when I past one and I have emergency dial on speed and ready to call on a click of a thumb and my eleven year old self would check around wondering where my adult left me in the store.
I know my adult assured they’d be right back but if this man had grabbed me and touched me and if this man had done unimaginable terrible things to be. Would they be back fast enough?
 
When walk alone, I never feel like I am truly alone. 

Men are like a gun that you never know which one is truly loaded but you still need to duck and run whenever you lay your eyes upon this wild beast let loose to humanity. These creatures do not care how old their plate has been sitting there, they want to feast. They don’t care if it’s prepared, no, they want to feast
. 
Men are so absolutely terrifying that when I’m running into a store I wonder if anyone would notice a ten year old girl missing in aile 3 and if anyone would hear my screams and if I could scream loud enough or kick hard enough because I know that I am fragile and I’m not strong and I know that I would not be able to go against a lion let loose from their cage.
 
I was always scared of men when I was little and my father went to get beer and cigarettes from the corner stores I wouldn’t hesitate to lock all the locks,, the windows,, and even put that silly glass cup on the door in case the fact someone other then my father walked through my highly secure apartment, that I would hear the shatter of the glass noise echo throughout the still room. I wouldn’t know what to do in that case.
if I’m lucky and  if my walls are thin enough, maybe my neighbor could help or I would have to curl under a bed and hide? Hide and hope that they wouldn’t find me

I never knew which man was the loaded gun. 

When my father would stumble in the apartment with his friends and I would cook for them all on the weekends my dad had me. Would he be sober enough to save the nine year old from being tourmented and tramazed by his friends? Would he be sober enough to fight off the beast, or would be join? 

Why is this right, to ponder these thought and be so scared?
 
I’m terrified of men. 
But no, 

I’m just terrified of “not all men”.