I sit down and feel like I’m in a box with a label.
A label of unwanted
Of just not quite right.
Of outcast.
A label of annoying,
Of weird.
I’m inside a box in my family.
One they wish they could throw out.
It’s been sitting there
and no one knows what to do with it.
No one wants to touch it.
They don’t want to deal with it.
They try to look away to forget it’s there.
They think if they ignore it long enough
It will disappear.
No one wants the box with me in it.
It hurts.
It hurts knowing they don’t want me.
It hurts knowing I’m not what they want.