People Shouldn’t Like Me

People shouldn’t like me.

Not easily.

Not casually.

Not in that shallow, you’re pleasant to be around way.

They shouldn’t like me because I don’t exist to be digestible.

I don’t smooth my edges so rooms stay comfortable.

I don’t shrink my pain into something inspirational

so others can feel good about surviving less.

People shouldn’t like me because I remember.

Because I carry receipts in my body.

Because I don’t forget who showed up only when I was useful

and disappeared when I stopped bleeding prettily.

They shouldn’t like me because I ask for the truth.

And most people don’t want the truth—

they want quiet compliance,

soft agreement,

a woman who absorbs damage and calls it grace.

People shouldn’t like me because I don’t perform healing.

I don’t offer closure on demand.

I don’t forgive on a timeline that benefits anyone but me.

I don’t pretend love didn’t cost me things

I will never get back.

They shouldn’t like me because I’m tired.

And I refuse to disguise exhaustion as sweetness.

Because some days my honesty is sharp.

Because my silence is intentional.

Because my boundaries sound like rejection

to people who lived off my availability.

People shouldn’t like me because I will see them.

Not who they say they are—

who they are when no one is watching,

when they’re cornered,

when they’re entitled,

when they’re careless with other people’s hearts.

They shouldn’t like me because I am not here to be saved,

or softened,

or made more agreeable.

I am not a lesson.

I am not a mirror meant to flatter.

So if someone likes me—

really likes me—

It won’t be because I was easy.

It will be because they could stand

being witnessed.

If people don’t like me for me

For who I am,

Then that’s fine, 

That’s not my problem 

I refuse to change to make people like me.

~~~🎵SONG LYRICS🎶~~~

People Shouldn’t Like Me 

(SPOKEN WORD) (INTRO)

People shouldn’t like me.

Not easily. Not casually.

Not in that smile-and-nod, keep-it-light way.

I wasn’t built to be swallowed whole.

I was built to be felt.

(VERSE 1)

People shouldn’t like me because I don’t exist to be digestible.

I don’t sand my edges so rooms can stay comfortable.

I don’t turn survival into something inspirational

so others can clap without changing anything.

I carry memory in my spine.

I remember who loved me loud

and who only stayed while I was useful.

I remember hands that vanished

the moment my pain stopped entertaining.

People shouldn’t like me because I ask for the truth.

And truth is heavy.

Truth interrupts dinners.

Truth makes people look at themselves

longer than they planned.

Most people don’t want the truth—

they want quiet compliance,

soft agreement,

a woman who absorbs damage and calls it grace.

(CHORUS)

So don’t like me lightly.

Don’t like me safe.

If you stand here, stand awake.

Because I won’t shrink, I won’t bend,

I won’t bleed politely for your comfort.

If you like me,

let it be because you can handle being seen.

(VERSE 2)

People shouldn’t like me because I don’t perform healing.

I don’t offer closure on demand.

I don’t forgive on schedules designed to ease guilt.

I don’t pretend love didn’t cost me things

I will never get back.

Some days my honesty is sharp.

Some days my silence is intentional.

My boundaries sound like rejection

to people who lived off my availability.

People shouldn’t like me because I will see them.

Not who they claim to be—

who they are when they’re cornered,

When power is offered,

when no one is watching.

I am not here to be saved,

softened,

or shaped into something agreeable.

I am not a lesson.

I am not decoration.

(BRIDGE)

I’m tired of being palatable.

Tired of translating pain into poetry

just so it lands easier.

I choose integrity over approval.

I choose weight over applause.

If that makes me lonely,

So be it.

Loneliness is better than being owned.

(CLOSING CHORUS)

So don’t love me halfway.

Don’t stay if you need me smaller.

If you choose me,

choose all of me—

the fire, the fatigue, the truth.

Because I will not disappear

to make you comfortable.

(SPOKEN WORD) (OUTRO)

If people don’t like me for who I am,

That’s fine.

That’s not my burden to carry.

I refuse to contort myself

into something easier to digest.

If someone truly likes me,

it won’t be because I was easy.

It will be because they could stand

being witnessed.

And here’s the truth that steadies me:

I am still breathing.

Still choosing.

Still standing in my own name.

I am allowed to take up space

without apologizing for the shape of my soul.

And if the world can’t hold that,

it will have to grow.

Not me.

I am enough.