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Sarah Feb 13
on a daily basis
my brain reminds me,
"you'll never fit in".
sometimes i believe it.
but once in a while i realize,
i'm not a puzzle piece.
i will never be.
i wasn't born to fit in this giant puzzle.
perhaps we could all just coexist.
you're you and that's enough
Hey bro,
Hey,
I’m having a party later wanna come by,
I really shouldn’t,
C’mon it’ll be fun I’ll pick you up at 8.

What do I wear I ask,
I never get invited to parties,
I get ****** drawn on my yearbook,
And I always get picked last for sports.

Hey mom I’m going to a party,
Oh the normal,
Just a study group get together,
My words light as a feather.

The clock strikes 8,
You pick me up,
Right hand on your steering wheel,
Left hand flicking a cigarette out of your window,
The scent of your cologne,
Smells like home,
But the way you look at me,
Home is where I should’ve stayed.

Do you drink,
Like alcohol?

Yes like alcohol,
No not really,
Aw c’mon man you’re coming to your first party,
I really shouldn’t,
Don’t be a *****,
I laugh and shrug,
I knew I should’ve stayed home.


We arrive at your house,
I imagine this is what being famous feels like,
All eyes on you as you step out of the car,
Probably without the empty looks and questions,
Why is he here,
They probably felt bad for him,
Look at him,
Disgusting.

The house was huge,
Owned by a business man,
Rich decor,
Only child,
What a lonely life.

Let me grab you a drink,
No it’s okay I’m really fine,
I bring you to my house and you want to disrespect me?

I guess I’ll have a drink,
That’s my boy,
With a wink and a turn,
You disappear in the crowd.

I sit on your couch in silence,
Bodies swarming by,
Conversations about *** linger in the distance,
I guess everyone knows something about someone,
Even if that person of subject knew nothing about it.

***** this,
***** that,
***** there,
And the best,
I guess **** are allowed here.

You return with the drinks,
Mine fizzy,
Your’s smooth,
Cheers he said,
Clink,
Now drink your drink.

Consciousness came in and out at this point,
My cellphone gone,
I can’t call anyone,
I need my mom.

One moment I’m in the living room,
On the couch,
On the stairs,
In a room,
On a bed.

I can’t speak,
My hands numb,
I’m cold,
My clothes are on the floor.

One pair of hands,
Then two,
Then three,
I lost count after the blindfold,
My screams cut short by loud music and rags.

I wake up,
My head hurts,
Bruises all over my body,
I’m in my bed.


My mother comes in scolding me,
Telling me how he brought me home,
That he told me not to drink so much,
That I fell down the stairs,
This is where the end of my life started,
With a “Hey bro”,
A drink,
A clink,
And a suicide.
Leon Murphy Nov 2018
Correct me
If I'm wrong
When I'm bent,
Bend me back into form.

I don't fit in
I don't belong
But that doesn't mean
That I am wrong.

Beating me up
And claiming;
"It will make me strong".

Never has it been
Looked at properly
The scars
That ravish
My body and mind

I held up
A flower
But don't wish
To be saved
Just to make
A statement
That,
I fit in
Just fine

But you had
denied me
That space.
Julian Delia Aug 2018
Do you feel uncomfortable in your own skin?
Here's a tip, from kin-to-kin:
If you don't fit in, don't fit in.
Simply, be.
Sometimes the greatest act of rebellion is trusting your nature and holding on.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
You would think
A fool who always lies
Would finally surmise
He is known to be unwise
In most other people’s eyes.

You would think
A snake in the grass
Would not have an ***
But it comes to pass
That some are all ***.

You would think
A pile of dog manure
Would smell himself for sure
And that would insure
To show that he's not pure.

You would think
A **** so full of hate
Would not aspire to be great
And instead would wait
Until humility reached his gate.

You would think
Being socially quite blind
No ability to be quite kind
Would someday soften the rind
Of almost any creep you’d find.

You would think
With so many tramps around
And unfunny political clowns
Someone would knock him down;
Teach him something on the ground.

You would think
Some lesson would be due
To give this reprobate a clue
And help him know what to do,
But that might never come true.
Dorky Rhapsodist May 2018
We place our self worth in others and in our insecurities.
We focus on what we don't like, what others don't like, and try to fit into that tight mold.
But that mold is too small for anyone to fit and be happy. You have to leave your heart behind, if you want to fit. That's the secret. But why go there? To be happy?
You can't be happy without a heart to love others, to love yourself. And you can't bring your heart.
You don't have to fit some tiny mold that hurts all the time,
Do what you love.
Wear what you love.
Eat what you love.
Learn what you love.
Be where you love.
Be with who you love.
Make what you love.
Be who you love.
Just let go and do what you wanted to, be who you wanted to be. You're beautiful and you don't need to change.
Eleanor Webster Dec 2017
Tick
Tick
Tick of a metronome
Everyone falls into their allotted place
Somehow in the chaos they all know the pace
of this tune
This humdrum waltz
Step one two step one two step one two step
Into a world of imagination and fun
I've always danced to my own tune
I've pirouetted and leaped, out of sync, out of time
And I've always been praised for not toeing the line but now
Somehow I wish I could force my heavy feet
Into this repetitive nonsensical beat
Of the collective, the herd
That I so desperately need
I'm not a genius, not a poet, not an enlightened teen
I'm an extroverted mess with an eagerness to please
But a stubborn refusal to dance to the beat in the past has made me
A social outcast
It's too late for me
To find my feet
Where they fit in this dance to the death
When life's only half lived
I've always called myself a ****** never realising how well it fit
And if you are proud of your uniqueness, you can't escape it
When you need to
Or want to
Fit in with the crowd
I'm too crazy or too tame
Too quiet or too loud
And only here with people
Who I just can't seem to get
I feel the accurate poignance
Of the title, 'misfit'.
A pretty self-explanatory poem, I feel. Inspired by a silent disco where I chose a different wavelength to the people around me.
Smudged Ink Sep 2017
fit
i feel like i'm not fitting in anymore
like i have lost my place
to be honest
i'm not sure i had a place to begin with

i look at my friends
and realize i am becoming alone
i'm not sure when everything changed

do you not say hi anymore
because we weren't actually friends
or do you just not care

do you only talk to me to get with her
because it's been this way for too long
and i can't do it anymore

i'm tired of this push and pull
this constant back and forth
not knowing who to trust
or where to turn

i don't feel like i fit in
because i don't know who i fit with
i don't feel like i have a place
because i don't think i'm good enough for any place

i'm trying to be okay with being alone
not being lonely
but alone
but i get confused
and it gets hard to remember which is which
sadgirl Sep 2017
the magic
is that i have no home
in this world
besides you
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