Being Understood is Everything

Your face, it glistens with sweat, breath so heavy…here goes:

 

I don’t even know where to begin.

Is it with the sadness that sits at my side, shadowed by my difference, my indifference.

I always end up isolated, not feeling of this world’s rolling over and over.

I see inside their skin,

The pain, the ugliness, the switch they turned off.

I look into eyes that don’t care to look back.

Cold, bleakness, artificial happiness, like sucking on plastic.

Where do I fit?

I think about death, hoping some lies are answered there.

Why do I need to fit?

Because being different means being misunderstood.

Why is that important?

Because being understood is everything.

 

 

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