I am weird  
Born weird  
And in the desperate urge not to be  
I tried to take another form —  
A shape made from a mold that wasn’t mine.

And the pain of not fitting into what was expected off me…  
Turned into despair.

Claustrophobic, crushed  
Inside a mold that was never made for my shape.

And the pain?  
The pain of the molds  
Was greater than the despair itself.

Still, I go on
Still…  
Weird.

I am weird  
Born weird  
Since the first breath  
Since the first blink  
I knew it.  
I felt it.  
I was… weird.

And with the weirdness  
Came the pain  
The pain of knowing  
The pain of self conscious
The pain of being... weard

And in that pain  
A cold, cruel hope—  
To change.  
Change.  
Change…

…

Impossible.  
Change.