Person//:Undefined

No matter what we say,

We never stop fighting at the end of the day,

To reclaim a form of a voice,

Once thought to be pure noise.

Killing us slowly from both sides 

Is an operation of oppression

And my mere thought becomes an obsession.

Veils removed, setting sail to embark on a 

Journey to lose my self before I lose myself. 

If I ever meet my maker, I'd tell them to try another make, cut this clip short,

Another take for the reel.

Because I think living as myself is a mistake.

A face with no reason to find meaning,

What larger picture, what bigger call was I supposed to be heeding?

Dramatic twists and turns choke on each syllable, as if assimilating a similar soul simply to sell a dream of home, a dream of hope,

Would ever be worth more.