I hear them hate

I hear them say

“you’re better off dead”

And some day I believe them

My skin is too dark it’s scary

My body too fat its overwhelming

My voice too loud

My accent too thick

Some days I am the favorite

Yes, they all want a piece of me

So, they take it

My breasts are groped

My vagina invaded

When I yell, “help”

My plea goes evaded

Is this the price of not being hated?