What am I?

I come with strings
intricately laced
through my tight holes.

I’m soulless, yet I have a sole.
It is made of leather
to protect me
through each and every step
in my short life.

My purpose is to give comfort and pleasure
when and where it is needed
and protect myself from being
beaten down.

At first glance
you see the outer beauty
that emanates from my body
as a whole.

My stiching:
A work of art.
It keeps me
from falling apart.

The tidy bow on top
tied nice and neat
shows no signs
of the abuse I take
from their feet
stepping on me each day.

Men carelessly thrust
their bones
inside my vulnerable opening
stretching and weakening
the perimeter of my orifice.

In time, my exterior
will crack and peel.
Eventually, I will be tossed aside
when I no longer fit snugly
around their body
and no longer serve a purpose
in their life.

Broken and mended
I now belong
to whoever will have
this old shell
of a once beautiful creation.

Used and abused, I am a woman.