I got my letter but I didn’t read it,
Just followed along with my kin;
I wouldn’t let the Sorting Hat touch me,
And claimed to all I was Slytherin.

I never liked the other colours,
But green seemed to fit, and I felt like a snake!
Plus, when I’d want something as much as I did,
I was more than willing to be fake.

I didn’t try with witches or spells;
I missed class on purpose, and it stung my pride.
My Patronus, the crow, still crouched in my shoulder—
But even he’d known I’d lied. Now I’m trapped inside.

My life’s about art and academia, dark...
So I’ve poured over books behind secret walls.
An INTP means something to me,
Now I’m staring, completely enthralled.

I got my House but I didn't fit in--
At least not to the same degree.
Maybe I earned it for all that I was,
But now it doesn't feel like me.