I’m Not You

It’s tired, that thing that you do.

Where you expect me to be just like you.

But maybe I think differently,

and maybe I feel compassionately,

my heart on my sleeve.

Why do you think I need to react indifferently,

like the way that you do?

I’m not you.


I’m tired of wandering through.

I cannot be who you expect me to be,

feeling nothing with negativity,

constantly happy.

Why do you expect me to be anything other than me,

living a life that’s untrue?

I’m not you.


You sit and act like you already knew.

That I would just bend the same as you,

and react with anger so diligently,

when I’m just me.

How can you say these things so cold-heartedly?

Honey, that is not me.

That’s you being you. ©


2 thoughts on “I’m Not You

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