Taught my epilepsy how to drive,
got my independent streak a little drunk on empowerment,
made a piece of art at 2am so decided god mustn’t hate me.
Started to leak, said, oh no, touched it, saw it wasn’t blood.
Looks like I’ve got inspiration that isn’t uterine.

Truth come out, know my independent streak had
actually tossed all hope when it realized it didn’t have tyrants to
fear anymore. It didn’t despair; it just ceased to care, but it gets so
high now, on the idea that I could thrive, now that I’ve healed enough
to start to need to in order to survive.