Why do I need to be rejected to feel like I have agency?
Why must rage be my favourite melody?
Why must the moment I land softly,
become the greatest source of my insecurity?
So that I can stand amongst good people and shout,
How dare you live peacefully?
As if my disunity-filled reality, can break the imagery, of self-vested false mimicry,
one could see if their closed eyes could see vividly?