VULNERABLE

Do they know how they are looking at me?
Do they realize that their eyes dig into my skin like unforgiving knives
Intent on destroying my very essence?
And if they do know, do they even care?
Of course not.

Why do they make me feel like this? 
Don't they understand how much it hurts
How it almost confirms my secret fears
That I am less than the eqivalent of dirt on their shoes
Not fit even to touch their skin?
Do they think it matters?
Of course not. 

What did I ever do to them?
Why must they stare, dissolving me from the inside out
Reminding me of the times I felt most helpless
Most childish, or repulsive?
And how do they muster up the courage
To treat me this way
To confirm those secret fears
Locked inside of me?
And why me?
Is it because I disgraced them, or framed them? 
Of course not.
I am just the most vulnerable.