Am I a defeatist? Maybe
Am I cruel? Maybe
Am I sensitively insensitive? Maybe
The world looked at me and defined me with adjectives,
A bunch of words with a lot of meaning
Sometimes I'm told, "embrace who you are"
How can I embrace something that the world detests?
They tell me not to play the victim even when I've been pushed into the corner
I try to hold my head up high, but you see the crown of darkness is too heavy a jewel to carry
Still I try to look past the flaws of each gemstone of my personality; my crown
Each stone I'm still trying to understand
In the end I'm told my attitude isn't fit for the crown,
Tell me how it's supposed to fit when the narrative of the world is twisted, never trustworthy
When the words spoken make us question ourselves and our sanity
We ask,
Am I, am I, am I?
Am I a defeatist? Maybe
Am I cruel? Maybe
Am I sensitively insensitive? Maybe
But the world already knew that
