In my defence,
this confidence is a consequence of my actions,
dividing my life in fractions of factions.
My doubt was an omnipresent ambivalence,
the constant flux of unsure abilities and unconfirmed acceptances.
I walk now with my head held high as not to look down but to tether myself to a higher purpose.
During my unsure adolescence I was often observed unfairly, so to counteract these hateful glares I did a vanishing act and became the unseen being fleeing from feeling any emotion, caught up in my ocean of commotion without a notion to escape, so I flock home with my skin blown, feel an onset of Stockholm syndrome.
Try to stake a claim on my own existence, try to evaluate and validate my mortal persistence, when told constant your worthless you tend to believe it, you perceive no reprieve though you try to conceive it, time to grieve as it reaches new levels of intensity, can’t fathom why I’m being singled out because of my propensity.
I’m not a threat or a danger but I do feel like a stranger in my own little world, so I’ll lay down on the floor all fetal and curled.