I once wrote a poem that said you had no claim over me.
No right to act mad or frustrated.
But now I must take a step off this pedestal
That I made out of macaroni pieces crumpled up balls of paper, and hair product.
I have no claim over you.
No right to be disappointed in you.
No right to expect better of you.
But I wish I did.
I feel like I should.
If you let me have a say
I’ll let you have one too.
I'm sorry I turned my back
But I know better now.