WE’RE NOT THE SAME

There’s something you never counted on...
And that’s okay because some people can’t count.

You thought if you lied long enough, manipulated hard enough, and changed the narrative fast enough, the truth would lose its footing.
But here’s the thing:
I never needed to make up a story.
YOU wrote it for me.
And now? I’m just here to read it out loud.

You were taught to conquer.
I was taught to care.
You learned to manipulate.
I learned to protect.

I was raised to value people,
you were raised to value things.
So no…
you and I?
We were never the same.

You said you hated liars, thieves, cheaters, and gossipers.
What you really meant was that you hate when people do those things to you,
because that is EXACTLY who you have become.

You warned me about snakes in the grass, psychos, pathological liars, and manipulators…
Not knowing you were giving me your own biography.

I’m not here to throw dirt.
I’m here to grow the tree you tried to chop down when you thought no one was watching.

Your shame isn’t mine to carry.
Your burdens aren’t mine to hold.
Your mistakes aren’t mine to correct.
Your lies, your choices are your consequences… not mine.

I live my life based on truth.
You live your life based on a fictional story where you’re consistently the hero.

It’s crazy to me that you handed me a narrative so warped and twisted that it was undeniably yours.
I never needed to lie or exaggerate.
The facts alone are so outrageous that no amount of seasoning could make those lies easy to swallow.

I used my voice to speak your lies.
You’re an exceptional storyteller
but not in a way that brings you honor.

My restraint was never weakness.
It was mercy.
And even that has a limit.