I don’t want your acceptance.
I want your submission.
I want you to respect me for once because you feel I’ve earned it.
No logistics about it.
I want it to be personal.
I want it to be willing.
I want this to be something other than advantageous for you.
I know that’s out of the question and not in your nature.
That’s why I don’t talk to you because I want all the things you can’t give me.
All the things only I can give myself.
I’m the only one that lives up to my own expectations and morality.
I’m the only person worth knowing and interacting with.
Stop being so theatrical and acting hurt.
Tomorrow you’ll sleep it off.
While the next two months I’ll be contemplating what made me so unworthy, even though I know the answer.
Or so unlucky…
Even though I know I wasn’t the cause.
You are the toxin in my sweet fruitful air.
Don’t you get tired of being a stubborn weed that I have to rip from the roots every seven days?
Why do you come back when you know you aren’t wanted?
Why do you torment me so?
Why do you do this to yourself?
Asking me to change, like you aren’t the one you’d like to bury.