Non-conformity

“Pick a side,” they say. 

I laugh.

I don’t get to pick.

I have always been taught to pick the right side. 

Never to question. 

But I’m curious. 

The wrong side looks...

New.

Fresh. 

Welcoming. 

Comfort lies in the right side, adventure in the wrong. 

I cannot choose. 

I will not. 

I stare defiantly into their eyes. 

“No.” 

Not one. 

Both, neither.

I get to choose. 

I refuse.