I fight for every breath I take,
in a world that doesn't want me to breathe,
that doesn't want me to live.
Every step outside
feels like a riskâ
a game of chance,
where the odds are stacked
against me.
The world tells me I do not belong,
that my existence is a threat.
But still, I fightâ
fighting to be seen,
fighting to live,
fighting to be the man
I know I've always been.
I am afraid,
yes,
but I refuse to let fear
be my cage.
Even in the darkest moments,
I know this:
to live,
to breathe,
is my act of resistance,
my proof that I will not be silenced,
no matter how much the world
tries to make me small.