Why can’t everything just be easy for once?
I remember when things were simpler,
I felt so secure.
But now, it feels like everyone is against me,
people whisper when I walk by.
If they would just leave me alone,
my life would be so much better.
But they never do, so I am angry and bitter—
reliving every slight when I lie down at night.
I resolve to ignore it,
to hope things get better.
I envy those for whom everything is simple.
They succeed without even trying.
They are happier than I am,
even when my life is good.
My sleep is anxious,
for I cannot manufacture security.