I know what you want with me.
A slave,
A dummy;
Someone who'll do whatever you ask.
Why is it you ask me to be this person?
This dummy?
This slave of no meanings?
I know you care,
But in my mind I often wonder.
I wonder why the hell
You feel the need
To shoot down any pangs of emotion
I so rarely show off.
I'm not a bad person,
Or am I the devil in your perspective?
I don't know how to condemn
These ackward feelings.
I don't know how to ask you
To treat me like a normal person.
Could you just do that?
*Okay I think I have to explain this a bit. People think it's about me being some man's slave or servant or something. In actuality, it's about my mother. Years ago whenever this was written, it was at a time when I was struggling with my mother. She always had me doing housework and I'd would get kicked out or in terrible trouble if I didn't obey her. I felt like a slave. This has nothing to do with a man okay people!