You don’t get to have me at your mercy.
You don’t get to dump me, and then still be welcomed back with a routine.
I don’t need you.
Not having you doesn’t make me anxious, or feel empty.
You don’t cause me the same kind of pain anymore.
The anguish, if that, lasts only a moment.
Your abuse doesn’t make me want to hurt myself.
Your actions don’t decide my sense of worth.
Your words are poison-tipped arrows, but I’m standing behind a glass wall.
I have my own sense of worth now.
I’m over you.