Fitting in your life?
Madness.
I won’t shrink my colors
to match your grayscale.

I won’t switch my tongue,
bend my laugh,
or wear costumes
to get a seat at your table.

Dating turned into a circus
pretend to be funny enough,
crazy enough,
never just… enough.

But me?
I belong to the sheets,
not the streets.
Where I can be
funny, loving, loud,
crazy and soft,
without apology.

I don’t want a copy of me,
I want a world I’ve never seen.
Show me how you read the seasons,
how you smile at sunflowers,
how you argue with machines
do they free us,
or make us lazy?

I don’t need your sameness,
I need your difference.
Teach me your chaos,
and I’ll share mine.