Z is always in last place

It’s complicated to share where I’m at,

Because I don’t really feel like myself,

I feel bisected, slighted, and typically ignored,

I’m fed up, tired of everything going wrong,

I am not invisible, I matter,

Perhaps I’m unwell, does that register?

I am unhappy, old, fat and depressed,

In another fixed race where I’m in last place.

What does it take to get by easily?

I don’t need a win, I just need a place,

Where life doesn’t constantly,

Kick sand in my face.