No one cares about what’s wrong.
No one cares about what happened.
No one cares about who did it.
All they wanna know is if you
can trust them so when you’re known they
can fit in.
Just to make you feel good
But they don’t know that they are
the problem, even though they should.
will forever be alone
because you don’t know what I’m thinking
My thoughts are blood, blood in
a tub and I’m slowly sinking.
I need an outsider
Someone that doesn’t fit in
or someone who doesn’t care to win
They come out of a group and they walk up to
me should I cut them off or should I
I cut myself I need help I want help
But I don’t want their help.
Why are you like this?
Everyday my good side is a hit or miss.
Maybe it’s just
I AM who I AM. . .
Do you understand?
There’s me and there’s you
And I try to think it through
But I’m scared of myself. . .
Why can’t I be alone by myself?
There’s an anchor in my chest
Pulling me towards and away from my best
This void, this pulling in my chest, it never
Goes away. . .
I can’t remember happy days
I can’t get away from it
It pulls me back and I’m back in it
I pull it up to my head and think
What if I miss?
Why am I like this?
Just leave me alone
I may not be fine, but I
will be soon enough
I don’t need your help
I don’t want it either, I
manage fine alone
Just lay off already
you’ve done enough harm to me
by shutting me out
I am the wilted rose
I am the first drop of rain
Brought to life with prose
I am the root of your pain
I am born from hatred and petty choices
I am the water flooding you
Through negativity given voices
I tell you your chance at belonging is through
The flaws brought out in every way
The ship that each storm tosses
The single cloud on a perfect day
The pain that stems from losses
I am the heart that skips each beat
I walk alone, on any street
I am the cat in a canary’s nest
I am the weight atop your chest
I am the pain born from disinterest
I don’t belong, not with the rest
I walk the streets aimlessly,
I don’t know where to go.
My mind wanders painfully,
thinking why I’m alone.
I look for friends,
for someone to call,
but in a few moments,
my hopes start to fall.
The people I do find
just make me depressed
They look for ways
to quickly get away
-> and I do, too.
My young sister Phoebe
asked me a question:
“Name one thing that you like.”
It was then that I realized
I had no answer.
Hi, I’m Arnold and I’m an elephant. I am just like every other elephant in the center of South Africa. It’s just that I am brown. All the other elephants tease me and say I was born from my mom’s butthole. I’m supposed to be gray like all the others. At least, that’s what they all say. Wait, or are they supposed to be brown? No, because everyone is supposed to be gray because that’s what society says.
One day, I went home crying because all the elephants teased me. I didn’t quite make it home. I saw something brown from the corner of my eye. I walked over very carefully and there it was: a big brown potato. He was crying. So I sat down and gave him some company. He said, “All the other potatoes are pink!”
I said, “Don’t worry, all the other elephants are gray and I am brown.” I thought to myself and added, “You know what, Daniel? It’s okay to be different.”
And he said, “Yeah, Arnold. We are unique.”