This game
I can't deal with it again
When is it going to sink in
that I am not something to win
I am not a reward for good behaviour
I don't have a ******* tick sheet
I don't give a **** about what you have
and haven't done, but don't you dare
look at me as an object to be 'won'

I miss you
The you who kissed my forehead
and told me I was too gorgeous and intelligent
to cry or be sad,
I miss you staring in my face and looking truly
glad that I could be with you
That I could love you.

I miss the you
who wasn't suddenly a lad.

You know who I am.
You know everything, before now
you said you didn't give a **** about
stuff I wore, or if I swore or
was 'unladylike' because that was me
I thought you fell in love with me

But apparently even your love can feel
un-sturdy, I feel like you've lured me in for a ****
You're eating me like a last meal, when
you have so many more years to give,
You turning on me is like a shiv through
the ribs

There's nothing left that I can give.

I've played the conditional game before
It burnt me til I could not trust
Then the lock was hit with lust, and then
you  were the one to find a key.

Please
Please
Please

I don't like this new guy
It's you I want to see

I swear that I am still **me