Respect

My heart is pounding in my chest.  If only I could really say what I want to say to you.

I'm hurt. Disappointed.

But most of all, I'm disrespected.

And if that has ever happened to you, time and time again, I'm pretty sure that you start thinking you're not worth anything either.  Your opinion doesn't matter.  Your experience doesn't mean anything.

Nada. Zippo.  Zilch.

Let's just say I'm *this close* to starting a countdown to the end of June.

I'm tired of being told what I think, say and desire doesn't matter.  Because you're wrong.  You can't see it now. But you will.

And by then, I'll be long gone.