They hate the way that I just know who I am and it’s not up for discussion.
They love the way that when they talk down to me.
It makes them feel powerful.
I feel the way I feel about society because it stands on a crumbling foundation.
I speak with a lack of words,
I live with a self confidence that burns.
Then, Lackluster and green with envy, I confessed.
And I apologized for all mistakes cemented in our minds.
Ones I’d made, ones I’d not, even mistakes that weren’t mine.
Because somehow losing my pride and sacrificing myself,
Seemed like a better idea than fighting.
Somehow I found peace in the wreckage I had become,
And once again I was myself.