You don’t really want me.

You want a robot.

Someone who only says what you want to hear, when you want to hear it.

Someone who only does what you want her to do.

Someone who only thinks what you want her to think (which is what you think).

Someone whose life revolves around yours.

Someone who takes the blame for everything you don’t like about your life.

Someone who you can dump on endlessly who never shows signs of distress or wear and tear.

I nearly died trying to be your robot.

Maybe I thought you’d love me if I did.

You have done a winning job silencing me

no eye contact

half-hearted listening

no smiles

no questions

acting like my ideas are the stupidest things you every heard.

But there is one small problem:

I’m done being a robot.

I want to speak my thoughts

I want to think my ideas.

I want to feel my feelings.

I want to be heard.

I want to live!