I am a mold
that cannot be found anywhere,
a mold that could never fit
into society’s perfect picture
I am the last puzzle piece
in the box,
the one that cannot be placed
because there’s no room left,
its only purpose
being a backup
in case the original goes missing
I’ve been floating
throughout my entire life,
never truly having a place
to sit down
and take in the sunlight,
or feel anything linger
against my fingertips
I morph myself
into different people
and lock away
any part of myself
that screams,
“I don’t belong here”
Constantly surrounding myself
with poisonous air,
I’ve lived
an endless life
of self-made suffocation,
yet I blame others
when I can no longer breathe
I don’t remember
the last time
I felt the wind in my chest,
or felt love
shining through the trees
I know
I will never truly fit
not in the way I dreamed of
as a kid
So to feel perfect enough,
I’ll change every aspect of myself
to fit into places
where I don’t belong,
praying that no one will notice
how unnatural I am