naked

I can’t help but feel insecure,
Yet the world is unsafe,
I detest myself imagining being raped or harassed,
I hate myself being phobic about the other sex,
although I am a straight female.
Feeling like “naked”
Strolling in innocence
Of how their gaze is so eye-opening.
Being a girl in public streets,
Yet became like a honey bee in a field of Venus flytraps,
Alike a jam jar, sweet with scattered blueberry fragments,
Unfairly relishing how they shovel me into their mouth.
Curvy or obese,
Benevolent or malice,
Thin or gaunt,
“Does my body count,”
Don’t gaze, within her only haze,
Distorted are her sceneries of Her pure,
Underrated blood valleys
As only affection runs through,
A female of curiosity to discover
Has got rudely discovered,
Still she is a vanilla flower in some eyes.