There is a shadow that has followed me from the moment I was born.
I think it watched me delivered by knife, full of scorn,
Knowing full well I wasn’t meant for this world,
Just a foolish mistake, an unwanted girl.
It followed me home from hospital, band about wrist,
Smudged and unnamed, as if to say, ‘who wants this?’
And as I grew, it came along too,
A constant companion, the one thing always true,
A shadow that announces, You Don’t Belong,
You were never meant to be here, your very being is wrong.
Monachopsis, the one thing on which I can depend,
You may be my one truth, but you are no friend.