I'm Sick Of Doing Bad

I'm Not Dauntless - I'm Divergent. I Am Whatever I Choose To Be.

I Settle Into Their Pace. The Uniform Pounding Of Feet In My Ears And The Homogeneity Of The People Around Me Makes Me Believe That I Could Choose This. I Could Be Subsumed Into Abnegation’s Hive Mind, Projecting Always Outward.

Blood Is A Strange Color. It's Darker Than You Expect It To Be.

Who Cares About Everyone? What About Me?

But Now I’m Wondering If I Need It Anymore, If We Ever Really Need These Words, “dauntless,” “erudite,” “divergent,” “allegiant,” Or If We Can Just Be Friends Or Lovers Or Siblings, Defined Instead By The Choices We Make And The Love And Loyalty That Binds Us.