Puppet

I am not the puppet and you are not the puppeteer.
I am not the breakable porclain doll you've come to smash.
You do not hold the strings.
No longer will I dance across the stage for your pleasure,
or sing out in the sweet voice you praise.
No, I am myself.
I move my bendable limbs by myself.
My heart beats because I make it so.
I cut my strings from my puppeteer's hand
and take scissors to the clothes you stitched.
I kick off the old shoes you used to worship me in.
I am tired of being your trophy.
You have tried to set fire to my box.
So I have torn down the curtains,
destroyed the set.
Because I am not the puppet and you are not the puppeteer.