You Left

I lost myself in you, and not in a good way. I’m a free spirit and you tried to trap me in your neurotic box.
Who is that? Who are you texting? What did they say? Where were you? What’s taking so long?
Asked so frequently, I trapped myself in a box in order to keep you. There, though, I started striking out as wild animals often do. At first, well fed and safe from other male predators, I frolicked in my pen and gobbled up the attention. Soon I grew bored and restless. I lashed out under the immense pressure of having to constantly worry about my behavior.
You left. I cried. I stopped. I got off my bed to do something and the next minute I was laying on my floor crying so hard I couldn’t stop until I gave in and texted someone I had needed to keep at arms length for awhile. They were the only person that could calm me down. Don’t let this experience make you cold and hard like you always try to do. Don’t let it affect your future negatively.
I am free. I can hug my guy friends and kiss them on the cheek. I can tweet before replying to a text. I can flirt and blush and walk past them, smiling because I know they’re watching me walk by. I can say what I want when I want to who I want. What more could I ask for.


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