I live with the awareness of my own seclusion.
Existence fuelled by separation, A war I will not win.
Embracing only alienation.
To suffer is to abandon the only home I’ve ever had. Outlier.
I don’t belong here.
The present state of existence acts as a refuge for the weak.
To shield our eyes is to blind mankind. Refusal to secede.
Inhabiting a world of filth which others have condemned.
We won’t live our lives for them. Human hatred is my second nature.
This is the root of my isolation. I am what I am, and I am an outcast.
Don’t look for me in the clouds, when I am beneath you.
Nowhere to be found.
Submerged in apathy, it’s just becoming hard to care, and I am nothing.
I have grown sick of the sound of my heartbeat.
And while the whole world breathes in unison.
My lungs are my shield, to reject the world around me.
I am what I am, and I am an outcast.