Forget It Poem by Aimee Rozen

I'm tired of trying to make you understand
who I am.
My brain is already exhausted by
my own attempt
to try and piece the picture together;
to make sense of this
existence.
I don't need someone
picking up the pieces
and like a child
sticking them in one's mouth
slobber and drool
questioning the integrity of
the medium.
I don't need someone to tell me
my picture isn't pretty
and that they could make it better
picking up a handful of pieces
just to redraw the lines;
distort the colors.
I don't need someone
to change the picture
because when changed
it becomes nothing to me.
It becomes your picture
that you have pieced together.
And I'm the one lost
who doesn't understand.