Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
But it’s the language we used to adore
Only with you was I able to miscommunicate
Only with you were my opinions misconstrued

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
My memory of it is rusty
I can barely remember the grammar
It was intricate and had a specific structure
My boundaries were always compromised
After every time I’d let you lie

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
My tongue can barely roll the r’s
My voice can no longer shout the insults
And my mind has forgotten how to manipulate as a result

Disrespect isn’t a language I speak anymore
So, when we saw each other unexpectedly
When used one of its idioms  
I could no longer recognize it
I no longer am fluent in it

I lost myself
In between the months of May and August,
As people sped up to undress, to feel the breeze of the warm wind
As I doubled my layers and was ashamed of my own skin
I lost myself
I let my existence chip away like overdue nail polish
I let you destroy my personhood piece by piece,
I was an extension of you that had to be polished
I let your words dig through what I thought was tough skin and unravel tears
I lost myself
I forgot to smile, I forgot to let people know I was fine
I forgot to lie,
I forgot to lie
I lost myself
My existence was merely a performance
But maybe I was suddenly gaining consciousness
Maybe in the months of the harsh summer
Where every night, crying preceded slumber
Maybe I was shedding the version of me that you had created
Maybe I was shedding the extension of you that you had obligated
She could no longer be, her time was up
She had filled you with all that was in her cup
Maybe I was going through metamorphosis
Maybe the aching was her death but my genesis

They say girls who listen to Jhené Aiko are toxic
And girls who listen to Summer Walker are dramatic
The ones who listen to SZA are eccentric
And the ones who belt out all three are chaotic
But why is it that female emotion is a threat?
Why does female expression make you upset?
Is it because you’re afraid of what’s next?
Of a woman realizing that what she feels towards you is regret?
Of a woman coming to terms with the hell you tried to make her forget?
Of her understanding that you’ll be forever in her debt?
As she grieves her heartache away with Jhené,
Misses you more with Summer,
And realizes her power with SZA,
She becomes an improved version of the woman you never deserved

I never used to be that kid that collected anything
No rocks, no pennies,
not even souvenirs
Some even collected diaries
I tried so hard to form a habit of collecting something
So that I could look back to my childhood quirks and think
about the things that made me a kid

I never used to be that kid that collected anything
But I've grown to know that that was a lie
As memory came back, my past caught onto me
Memories started to become clearer, to my demise
Nothing compared to the weight that home carried
Not even my school bag
Turns out, I've always been the kid that collected something
That very thing turned out to be trauma

I think we're only good when we miss each other
and I'm ok with that
now.

I've lost too much of myself to share with you.