We'll be child-like during the integrated biopsychosocial assessment, we'll even smile, because everyone likes that, glasses on the bridge of the nose, a bright fascination with artwork and our crayon mosaics we draw, thousands of NZ logos, maybe millions. We can't have an empty cell behind our eyes, they don't like that, it's not a good look, we can't be angry either, we prefer the sweet, lovable anger, so we'll meekly point at it, we made the black-bloom of bruises and cuts disappear, we can't feel like we slept on an ant hill, we'll be pristine, we won't be disheveled, mismatched and wearing what we had on yesterday, we'll be like love in dreams, something that lives under the sea, we'll be embraced by a gentle perfume, we won't tell them life is impossible or how we found half a bottle of Pepto-Bismol under a dirty mound of clothes in our floor, we'll display a musical happiness, a world of all beauty, we won't frighten anyone, the faces won't turn away, we'll be cold as death inside, outside, they'll be what is happy and so will we.