just another weepy bitch who needs to be benched.

Can you believe they called me heartless,
compressed into the confines
of actions and reactions they demanded—
as if, at my core, I have and will always
perform to their bespoke specifications?

When I cry, when I am sad, it’s an overreaction—
just beyond the limits they wanted to see.
So I shut the fuck up
and become heartless again.