I am not the self described squabbles in my head.
I am not the sorrowful truths left unsaid.
I am not a fetching dandelion, unable to run.
I am not all the inflections at the end of your tongue.
I am not your precious suicide notes.
I am not secure in your idea of hope.

I am, however, worthy of this life.
If I thought any other way, I will only deny, deny, deny.

I am denial.
I am pompous.
I am worthy.
I am Light.