My dark fantasies,

And perfect utopias,

Always changing,

As I change.

I know,

No-one cares about what I care about,

So instead,

Of taking comfort in that which returns to dust,

I take comfort in rejection,

And rejected ones,

And become rejected,

In my pursuit of comforting rejection.

My legacy will forever be,

The one who was born,

To not belong.

But these are all temporary,

To relive the glory of what will,

Never resurrect.