You call me naive when I refuse, steadfast, when I defend my ground. If his touch meets my resistance and my voice asserts a firm "no," you brand me naive, then let me cherish my naivety.
If your words cross boundaries, and I demand silence, the urge to shout swells within, to express how grating you are, but I stay silent, deemed naive by your decree.
You prefer my kindness, for you favor a gentle demeanor, so kindly, speak to me gently.
Indeed, I would embrace naivety, if it means preserving my dignity.
July.R
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