I'm in a room at a party
And the only thing I can think about
Is how different I am

I'm stubborn
But I'm too weak to keep fighting
I feel run down
Completely drained

When I speak
The words rush into each other
I panic and feel them string together
The taste of empty words
is like sewage in my mouth

I dress like my skin will peel off if it is admired by someone
The fabric must be loose or I fear that people will call me grotesque

When people are around me
They always hear my voice
But never listen
I'm a cacophony of forgotten lines

I'm in a room at a party
And I'm the outcast
I am different
But that shouldn't make me
An outcast