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Visit the active LitNet platform at www.litnet.co.za

Sing ’it > Entries | Inskrywings

“I am my own” by Nicola Jean Wyatt

Nicola Jean Wyatt - 2011-11-11



I am my own

How? Why? What am I missing? Your friends keep on with their gedagtes and continue to show their colours but you blame me as if I’m supposed to expose them, go undercover. Well, I just don’t give a damn about your so-called brothers. Behind your back, even in front of your face, after me they will chase and yet you treat me with little or no respect. Why would you give away, as if you maintain some sort of status? These boys are trying so hard just to achieve one glance, oh please! As if they really have a chance. How can you act like that? “Sy is my nuwe een, ouens. Nix anders nie, nog altyd net soos poision en selle soos al die jong hoes.” Damn your evil glory because this isn’t my story!

I choose!
I am not here to be chosen.
I’m not your toy!
I can’t be broken.
I choose to feel real
I am not ruled by emotion.

I chose to be with you and I choose to be alive. Respect is not in easily earned, well-wasted supply. Look I chose you, I don’t need to be with anyone to fly high. If your promises are not real, if it isn’t me that you feel, I won’t stop you from straying. God made me and I will be my own damn lady! Be careful not to player-hate me! Don’t blame me because just maybe, one day, you might find yourself amidst your getuie, maar jy is nog altyd alleen and chasing some other dude’s baby.

I choose!
I am not here to be chosen.
You didn’t make me
You can’t break me
I will follow tomorrow
Choosing to be free

Don’t play with me because I’m not your toy. If I had to play, I wouldn’t for sure and you wonder if you’ll stay with me but it’s my way, you see. I am my designator. I am me.

This is my life!
I choose!
I don’t live to be chosen.