I do not know
But I ponder on how it must feel to live in peace.
Is it a crime to want to be happy?
I think not.
But everything around me seems to believe otherwise.
The body I live in is not a place to call home.
That which wobbles and leaps all over my insides from my belly up to my chest is not fit to be called a heart. Not a whole heart, at least.
I feel like a hostage in this body.
My mind is worse.
I feel like an incurable disease.