You Don’t Have A Clue

All I want to do is live, be free. To my potential.
Yet people want to weight me down, cast their problems, their hang-ups, their aspersions on me. They decorate me with their worst like a Christmas tree. Ultimately, they want to take me from the game, unbeknownst to them.
My spirit cannot stand it, yet it refuses to be sullied.
They don’t know, as I do my utmost to deflect their damaging emotions, I struggle to keep silent, walking away rather than engaging them, ultimately to achieve some sort of sanity, but also to keep from reacting to their negativity thereby absorbing some of it; a harmony, a balance, of sorts.
But at what price, my silence, my humility, the challenge of keeping the ego in check?
High.
But I will not succumb, and I dig deep in my pockets to pay my fare.
I am able to see where it is from which they dwell from a place on high. And so, therefore, even though rankled, I remain impervious. And, even though I have the change, I refuse to buy a ticket for a ride on their emotional roller-coaster.
But, still, my soul cries when injured.
I am silent, but the burden crushes.
I continue to carry the weight, despite the analgesic doctrine.
But why? I ask... why don’t people look in the mirror to see, at the core, what they inflict upon those closest, and adjust accordingly. A bit of clarity and discretion might serve them well.
The unanswerable question in full bloom.
I will not give in.
I will not pander.
I will not continue to take abuse without a fair accounting.
I am a dog, backed into a corner, my teeth bared, and I’m way past give a shit.
My feelings, too, do count.
You will know this.
And you will respect me.
I know this.
I am this.
And I always will be.
Despite words from those I don’t respect. Whom mean not a flip. I still care. More than others.
And that is why.
I am.
Watch...
me.
Or...
don’t.
I will still...despite, and my gains will look effortless.
I have the scars to prove it.