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Student @ Redeemer’s University
I’m Not Your Little Project
<p><br/></p><p>I was played.</p><p>A script of “trust” and “letting in,”</p><p>a slow-burn lie beneath the skin.</p><p><br/></p><p>I opened the doors I had spent years barring</p><p>and showed them the shape of every scar.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I wasn’t a person, I was a task,</p><p>a problem hidden behind a mask.</p><p>A machine with a stutter, a system at fault,</p><p>placed under a clinical, cold assault.</p><p><br/></p><p>I bent my frame to the shape they drew</p><p>until I became someone I barely knew.</p><p>I chased the promise of “perfect” and “new,”</p><p>while they dismantled the parts that were true.</p><p><br/></p><p>So if I am silent, if I’ve walked from the shore,</p><p>it’s because I refuse to be a “fix” anymore.</p><p>I’m leaving the hands that claimed they were kind</p><p>and the “broken” version they left behind.</p><p><br/></p><p>For the one who promised to mend every part…</p><p>was the one who proved I was never meant to be fixed.</p>
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