I pull at my hair
And scratch at my skin
You ask me why
I don't even know where to begin

The curls in my hair are all wrong
The colour orange just doesn’t belong
My skin looks all weird colours and mottled
The feelings inside I keep up and bottled

There is no reason for my depression
I find it hard to show my expression
I escape into the word of fiction
I stay so long it becomes an addiction

Being who I am doesn’t conform
To what others consider the social norm
People who know my sexuality
See me as an abnormality

I get terrified when in a crowd
Everyone just always seems so loud
I cling to people like a leach
My voice is weak without freedom of speech

I wish I could be normal
But that would just abnormal
I wish I could learn to accept
But in that I am so inept