I feel like I’m not a part,
Like I am something far set apart.
I don’t belong here in between,
I don’t fit into the same old routine.

Perhaps I’m something else completely,
It shows, though discreetly.
At the big  dining table, they label,
A name they place, as if I’m crazy and unstable.

I am the hated Black sheep,
I can feel those words cut into my heart deep.
I’m just trying to hold onto this godforsaken life,
Trying not to pick up the cold, sharp knife.

But you’re making it so ******* hard for me,
Can’t you see?
I’m like the disgusting cockroach among those beautiful butterflies,
That’s the harsh truth, no more disguise.