When I was a little girl
I thought I was a princess
And sometimes I still like to
Play pretend
Be somebody else
To hide myself behind a neurotypical character
Who is normal
Who blends in with the crowd
Of people my age to whom I am nothing alike.
Sometimes I think that it's fine.
I can handle it.
But then the artist inside
Screams
You can't hide it
Sometimes, in the privacy of my own bedroom
I let myself
Be myself
Only for a couple of minutes
Because I quickly become too much for anyone to handle.

I feel like the color black
in a sea of colors--
soaking self with fraud soul
but the rain cleans my whole.

Its kind of a funny thing
How the world teaches us that we need to be great
When so many of us are average

For the world to tell children
Of the need to fit in
And to tell these grown ups
Of the need to stand out