Here’s why I Refuse to Praise you

You cannot demand what you do not deserve

Photo by Kai Pilger on Unsplash

I am supposed to praise you for changing my life and introducing me to my own potential by ripping off the blindfold of fear.

You love me to love you with public praise. My presence rewards you with validation, your attention gifts me with grace.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be bold, I begin to serve you.

I am supposed to praise you for enlightening me yet setting eyes on you left me dazed and confused.

You love me to love you with great vim, vigor, and verve. The more you thrive, the more I wither but since opposites attract, we remain together forever on the cusp of better.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be brave, we gather all my dreams.

I am supposed to praise you for being by my side always when you begin to flay me alive with your indifference for days.

You love me to love you with doubt I parlay into more defiant adoration. I self-propagandize so you don’t have to; I proselytize because you taught me how to.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be true, we assess all my dreams.

I am supposed to praise you for introducing me to the power of agency by demanding I abdicate my own and let you take control.

You love me to love you with invitations to test your boundaries so you can nudge me back into place wherever you decided I belong to.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be gentle, we kill all my dreams.

I am supposed to praise you for teaching me creativity is the key that unlocks everything I hope to be and do and live with you.

You love me to love you with sincerity that swells and flourishes anew, you demand my best, as defined by you.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be kind, you unveil new dreams.

I am supposed to praise you for hijacking my trust and my mind while my heart was payment in kind you took without further ado.

You love me to love you with sacrifices yet only ever reward me with humiliation, shame, and distress. You do not care, you only pretend you do.

You tell me to trust you, I trust you to be wise, you refute all I knew.

What I took for an us was never about me.

It was only ever about you.

I’m a French-American writer, journalist, and editor living out of a suitcase in transit between North America and Europe. To continue the conversation, follow the bird. For email and everything else, deets in bio.

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The human condition is not a pathology・👋ASingularStory[at]gmail・ ☕️ https://ko-fi.com/ASingularStory

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