It's Not Me, It's You

by Robyn Welborne about a year ago in slam poetry

[No Subtitle]

It's Not Me, It's You

These silly games we play. We live as if we are still in middle-school.

A kind of "tit-for-tat" with emotions that are not really there. A cat-and-mouse game of tag with out hearts.

Do I love you? Of course, I do.

How do I know that? My heart tells me.

It is the same thing, like always. This toxicity we indulge in.

A violent game of dominance. The power struggle for mind-control.

You downplay my sanity. You make light of my seriousness. You do everything wrong and blame me for correcting you.

Do you even love me? I think you do.

Is there a sex life? Would it even be called, "a life"?

We, from time to time, engage; more frequently than I would like.

You want to ravage me; it means nothing to you.

Just hollow motions that makes me give in to speed up the ending.

There is no soul-felt connection. Just dirty, rough, whorish sex.

How can I look at myself after that? My body, satisfied? My heart is not.

I feel nothing ... I wonder if you feel nothing too.

You want it every day and do not care about how I am feeling.

We are stuck in an emotionless cycle of sex, marijuana, and lies.

Do I love you? I keep asking myself that same question over and over again.

You feel entitled. The world revolves around your commands.

You try to offer favors in exchange for something demanded in return.

You want me to grow up while you stay a kid forever.

These temper-tantrums you throw as a grown man are tiring. I do not have the time and energy to entertain this nonsense.

Maybe I am not the one for you ...

Do I love you? I think I still do.

Not once do you ask how I am feeling. Not once do you sit down and listen.

I do not like talking to you. Do you even like talking to yourself?

Out of your mouth, you profess your love towards me.

We both know that is a lie.

I know who I am. You do not know me. You do not own me. I do not owe you. Nothing.

Do you love me? I do not care.

These games we play end here.

Do I still love you once more? No, I do not.

It is not me, it is you.

slam poetry
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Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Robyn Welborne

I am an aspiring creative writer who is currently working for my double Associate’s Degree in English. My writing has no limits and no filter. Anything and everything from all genres; if I think about it, then I will write it down. Enjoy!

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