Late at night in bed
I’m convinced people hate me
That I’m offensive and unwanted
Because of what I represent
Because I choose to be myself
Because I’m not palatable
That is my anxiety
Singing a song of discontent
And putting shadows in my brain
If I can let myself sleep
The morning brings me ease
And I don’t feel all this false shame
About the person I am.
Elizebeth Turnquist 
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