You think you know me,
but you don't.
Your arrogance leads you to believe that you understand me,
but you don't.
You know me as well as you know an oyster you find in the ocean--
you may study the shell, may memorize every crack and crevice,
but the soft inside and the pearl remain secreted within, far from your reach.
From morn to eve you may control my actions,
but you do not understand
my hopes,
my passions,
my weaknesses.
And you never will.
For I have watched you use others' innermost feelings against them:
whether calculated or unintentional, the pain you cause is real.
And I will not speak to you of where I have been,
for you judge it by your past,
rather than of its own merit.
You have a need to relate each person's experience to your own,
to mark our progress by yours,
rather than letting us grow on our own.
Our lives need not mirror yours to be of worth.
My life cannot mirror yours, but still is worthy.
My experiences made me who I am,
and
I
am
worthy.
Even though I am not like you.
I do not want to be like you.
Always needing to be superior,
always needing to be one better.
You need to know me to control me,
and, sadly,
you think you do...
but you do not.
You will not.
You shall never know the real me,
for I shall never show myself to you.
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