You Don't Know Me Anymore

I tore the photograph of myself as a child up between my

fingers because I thought I looked frightening.

You said I was wrong.

I decided I wanted to have a rest from doing nothing

but cleaning yesterday and I drank a cup of coffee.

You said I drank too much coffee.

I wanted some more books to read because I

have no friends and nobody to talk to. I lose myself in stories.

You said I spent too much money on books.

I write all my thoughts down such as my to-do

lists and lists about things I might forget that I need for work.

You asked in anger what I’m always writing lists about.

I don’t smile anymore.

You ask me why.

You say I’ve changed my mind.

But you haven’t even tried to know me since I was thirteen.

So how would you know?

Sometimes you doubt I have a mind at all.

Am I a robot to you?

Am I a machine to you?

You give me orders and pretend to love me when

something you want is out of your reach.

And I give it to you anyway.

You thought about having fish for dinner but

did not want to grill it yourself.

And I grilled it for you.

You thought of an idea which I knew was

never going to work but instead -

I went ahead.

I had faith in you.

I saw you struggle and weed out the fakery

in your life. But you see,

you don’t know me.

You haven’t even tried

and no, I don’t think you have faith in me.