Meant to Be

I'm really surprised you didn't get the hint
the first two dozen times you tried.
Little love notes slipped into texts I deleted,
voicemail messages to which I gave no reply.

You're persistent, I'll give you that.
But a thick-head and a blind eye
won't let you bulldozer through our little 'spat'.

When someone says no, they mean it.
That rule applies to me too, not just strangers.

Our shared blood isn't thick enough
to wash away the fruit of your anger,
or heal with a snap of a finger
a childhood of fear
I disguised as acquiescence.
​
When I said I'd heal on my own, I meant it.
That maybe one day I'd show you.
But I'm not that far down the road yet.
Just like me, you'll have to wait your turn
to see what I become next.
Who I decide
I'm meant to be.