You make me feel

small.

Like my opinions

and feelings

don't matter.

Because yours

are superior.

In every way.

I'm not involved enough

thoughtful enough

clever enough

whatever enough.

But you are.

And that's what matters.

You take me

for granted.

You think

it's great.

You think

you get me.

You don't.

I get

you.

So

stop.

Making me feel

so

small.

And that's Kelsey's ugly bitter heart and dramatic attitude bearing its head again. Shoot.