pushover
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"Once more," they asked me.
They asked with those simple words.
"Once more," they said again.
The words climbed up my throat,
but never left.
Their greedy mental hands pushed and pulled,
I am me
I am not you. I am me.
I am not he and I am not she. I am Jordan. I am me.
I am not a welcome mat.
You can’t just walk all over me.
Doormat.
For others to wipe their feet on,
and enter, clean,
into new oppurtunity,
new space to grow and explore and fill
and freedom of dominance
Doormat.
