We are the Misfits, the underdogs We are the uncomfortable silence being sprinkled like salt around the dinner table for we’d rather drink the tap water We are the influx of doctor’s bills drowning mother’s in shame confusion and debt- our father’s were confused too but then they learned to forget. We are the daddy’s little girls who used easy bake ovens and had barbies by the dozens Those childrens toy’s turned into drugs and boys so now we undress like Barbie and get baked like the sweet potato my momma left for me in her human sized oven All of a sudden We are the little boys playing with power rangers pretending that curfew was our only danger But don’t you love it when they call you big Poppa? From poppin a slam dunk to poppin a cap in your homeboy’s head Because you’d rather be a gangster than listen to what momma said
We are the young men getting less than, five hours of rest in a week because there’s a mermaid who stole his heart and hid it so deep the **** boy’s trying to grow gills We are the mermaids falling for sea monsters who knew of the danger but didn’t give a ****.
( She’d do anything for you you know that? If you went to jail I swear to God she’s rob a bank just so you could both be incarcerated.)
We are the youngest girl and boy in the emergency room at 1 in the morning I can hear my mom’s boyfriend in the corner there snoring We are the youth with confidence like sinking ships We live off of prayers for the oncoming apocalypse
Welcome to Misfit Island the fog on the lake at 2 in the morning looks like a sheet of glass separating a goblet of moonlight and a mug of dark fright We jump on the beach like astronauts and forget everything our grandparents taught us We are the lovers loving with the strength of every particle beam or lazer because if it wasn’t love it’d sure as hell be a razor
We choose moonlight and philosophy over structured life hypocracy because we are the misfits. We are the listeners, the observers We are the panic attacks written between your math quiz and midnight purge We are the bipolar, manic, ridden with panic, schizophrenic, depressed, never not stressed Eating disordered, Addicted, and every other diagnosis written 2013’s edition of DSM We are the soldiers going to war with our own country day in and day out there’s no voter’s booth in the universe that can make us put our weapons down.
But we are the misfits, plural we come to this beach to laugh and to cry, giving every answer a capital WHY because our insides differ we are not the same Welcome to Misfit Island, we are young and insane Do not be fooled by our high school transcripts or unshaven faces and hairy armpits We hold more gold within each and every one of our souls than you could ever dream to sell or bend to fit the mold our screams will dance in song and with every breath we take we learn to forgive our past and how to learn from our mistakes