Men look at me like an object, some source of relief to their stress and loneliness.
Though they cant even comprehend my distress.
They talk to me pretending to be interested in my thoughts and opinions when really they are interested in what they think I will give them in exchange for promises of love and sweet talk.
But when I seem to be to smart to play your little game of deception and lies, you instantly begin your search again, for some brainless little slut who believes any little lie.