Like scaffolding, you hold me together. You’ve framed me into the girl you want me to be but I cannot sit idly by and watch, as you take experiences, opinions, and even love, away from me. Like a pully system you trick me.
And I believe you. Believed you. I am my own person. I choose my foundation. I paint with my favorite colors. I pick out the decor. Because you’ve taken a sledge and broken me. Beat me down with your words. Taken a sledge and tore me down, only to rebuild me. These renovations are ugly and cheap. Google Earth takes my picture but I cringe when you show me what I’ve become. My beams are bent. My paint is chipped. My innards are thrown around like a tornados aftermath. But I’ve learned to tie knots. And you cannot trick me. I’ve invested in a different renovator. So now, I have a new system. New blueprints. And you are not my foundation. You are not my foundation. Are not my foundation. Not my foundation. My foundation. Foundation. What am I doing?