To The smell
To The drill
To The simplicity
I adapt
Quickly, No thought
It Fills up my veins
With warmth
State of longing
But For what?
For Those few seconds
Of difference, change
The Crisp wiff of air
And Clean, white sheets
Strange, but oddly comforting

If only I wasn't such a freak then I could explore the world every day of the week.
being constantly stuck in this place I call home, I just sit and watch the other freaks roam.
all the normal people have someone to love, and I'm stuck here talking to the angels above.
maybe if I looked different I would get treated better, or pretty and famous then my fans would write me letters.
but normal is not absolutely in my inside, and I don't wanna act like something I don't define.
but it's okay to be different because different is better, whether it's pretty or not like an ugly sweater.
being a freak doesn't make you weak, being the same will always make you lame.
realize this cause this is who you are, and finding the truth isn't so far.

What shape is it's ears?
A silhouette so mysterious.
Wandering in the woods,
Not knowing how it looks.
A little pointy on the nose,
But it doesn't actually crow.
A lonely silhouette,
Disappearing into the sunset.

I'm different because i like colors other than white.
I'm different because i like the weirdest things from joyous, laughter and bright.
I'm different because i love you.
You're different because you love me
We're different because we're not like the rest.
I"m different for seeing your weird point of views that no one else can see.
I am just different for being who i am without caring for judgement.
Different.

It's ok
To be sad
Or mad
Or not know who you are
It's ok
To get lost
In the forest
Of eyes
You don't need
To pretend
Everything's alright
It's ok
If you're queer
Or different from the others
Coming up with new words
To describe who you are
It's ok
No matter what
The sun will rise
And then come down
At least you have
One constant
In your life

I've always been different,
haven't I?

Yes

That remembered is not of present, true the fact.
Self in name, but person no more, a note is played and heard intact.
Resonation fades through fault or purpose, and plucked again a new key to nurture, sound or noise, felt or heard, possibility given but no outcome occurred, perhaps another.
Pick and focus on what comes to mind, and what was listened for can be pure to find, for sequence in health the song will give, a symphony of life in truth herewith.