You’re not touching me

After two long weeks of writing, I told myself I never wanted to write again

Yet here I am

Eagerly pushing to pen out this piece

All because of what you did to me

You say have a certain respect for people when they’re sleep

Not me

You must consider me lower than a person

Must think I’m some kind of extra burden

You’ve been looking for a way out

Trying to pick a fight with me, I stay away

Didn’t even know I fell asleep on the couch

Until I feel lights on and hear you rustling around

In and out

Mind groggy, I’m sorry for whatever way I offended you when I asked if you can turn the lights out

But I was met with a foul mouth

“I’ll turn them off when I want”

I know it was a taunt

So instead, I decide to go to bed

In the other room

Yet here you come

This impending doom

As I lay back you snatch the pillow and I knew

I knew! I knew you were trying to fight

I gave you your space, but you still weren’t satisfied

You wanted me to suffer

Waking up this morning, I ask myself why

Why did I have to feed into that line?

Yet the other side

Is like

She doesn’t have to disrespect you, if you can withhold she can try

And then I buy

I stooped down low to your level, instead of saying, “girl, bye”

Like I’ve done the last three times

You, in your mania, tower over me

Provoke me

Over a pillow

There’s got to be something else

There’s got to be someone else

Or some underlying discomfort with the fact I went to sleep peacefully last night

It’s sad because, while I’ve thought 100 times about what I could’ve done different

You probably feel justified

Leo, right?


For myself, my expectations are not to respond to the taunting

Leave if someone’s on me

Let it go


Let you go

I’m tired of being the person who is always telling myself, “Amber, she’s mad just let it go”

The more I do it, the more you won’t leave it alone

Damn, I guess my grumpiness from being startled out my sleep got the best of me