As If You Were A Window With Dust And Smudges On It

You perceive everything you do,
As a prerequisite of acceptance by others.
Don't you?
No matter what it is,
You edit it as approved.
Even lieing to yourself,
You believe should be forgven.
And your dishonesty charaded,
Others should receive without debate or hesitation.

Well,
I have been healed from any wounds.
Deliberately afflicting my mental stability.
And I don't allow either those conscious,
Or those protecting their unconsciousness.
The opportunity to reflect the disrespect,
They have for themselves up in my face.
I know my self worth and earned value obtained.

You?
Perceive everything you do,
As a prerequisite of acceptance by others.
Me?
I live in this neighborhood.
But I am not of it.
And that is a choice.
Not a sacrifice.

And I am certainly not going to define,
How I wish to be treated.
By those who wouldn't have a clue,
Of what a comprehending of respect means.
Your insecurities wont open that gate.

And I don't want to have your ego believe me to be angry.
Or bitter.
OR any of those things you'd like to repeat to your friends.

I just want to make this clear to you face to face.
On a one on one.
The backstabbing you've done to me.
I've been aware of it.
But the pushing of my buttons,
To allow a squeezing more of a forgiveness from me to you done.
Is no longer here for you to do as in days gone to forget.
I see through you,
As if you were a window with dust and smudges on it.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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