Little Girl

You hate me.

You hate me, 

because of stupid shit

that happened forever days ago.

Stupid shit that had happened before,

has happened since then,

and will happen time and time again.

I guess I was special. 

You super-sized that hissy-fit

for me.

Not for the others,

just me.

You didn't throw a hissy-fit

when you did it yourself

to somebody else.

Why is that?

Oh, yes,

All apologies,

I forgot–

Because you are the

Victim.

You are a

Martyr,

because you have cried.

Tears are not a sacrifice, 

Little girl.

Tears are part of life.

You're nothing special

just because you cry.

God, you're like that fat baby in the grocery store

screaming and wailing and blubbering away

because you didn't get it your way.

Because your mommy dearest

wouldn't get you some hydrogenated treat.

Well let me tell you,

You fat little baby,

You are not entitled to it.

To anything.

You are not some fucking queen.

Cry, 

Little girl,

cry,

cry away.

Eventually,

Everybody will kiss you

and hug you

and tell you you were right

and I was wrong.

That he was "stolen" from you.

Guess what,

young lady.

People are not objects.

They are not cushy dolls

to drool on in your sleep.

They are not your possessions,

Not yours to be stolen.

This is not a game

of "finders, keepers,"

And the fact that you "saw him first"

entitles you to nothing,

no rights to ownership.

The truth is, you didn't see him first.

You saw him before me,

but not first.

He didn't come into existence

Upon your first seeing him.

You don't think about that though.

You don't think about people in those terms.

You think about people only in terms

of your life.

And you think you deserve to do that...

Because you are the

Victim.

Because you are a

Martyr,

Because you have cried.

Tears are not a sacrifice,

Little girl,

Tears are a part of life.

You are nothing special

just because you cry.

Dang. That was longer that I expected it would be when I started writing it.

I could say oh so very much more.

But I won't.

Not for now, at least.

Oh well.

Deuces, all.