Puzzle Piece

They built their world with edges tight,
where pieces click and wrong feels right.
I tried to slot into the frame,
But I bent my corners, lost my name.

 A quiet hue, a different bend,
The kind that doesn’t want to blend.
Not broken—just a shape unknown,
a puzzle piece carved on its own.

I watched their picture form and gleam,
while holding onto my dream.
A scattered sky, a rebel tide
I find the beauty where they hide.

No box contains the whole of me,
No label holds what I could be.
They may not know the space I fill
But still I fit, and always will.