I wore rounded shoes on a square tiled floor and tried to avoid the lines but I almost always never won.

I saw the floating cloud, so perfectly suspended like newly washed linen on a hanger, and I played games, made up.

I spoke too quickly, too loudly, always honestly. When no one was around.

I had these great conversations, in my head; with a different person everyday. You see, I quickly changed.

It wasn’t easy making friends, but it was harder still, to keep them. And that was a harsh lesson to learn.

I was not a genius, but I was good at a lot of things. And I found out, good was never enough.

I was neither sad, nor happy; I wasn’t lonely, although often I was alone.

I noticed peculiarities, and stared too long. Maybe, maybe everyone thought that I was finding faults. But I always looked in wonder.

I was a misfit. And I just wanted people to see me for who I was: A girl trying to fit in.

6 thoughts on “Misfit

  1. Begins with so much of wonderment about the little things there are, and then being conscious about how you look when they look at you. Loved how ‘misfit’ and ‘fit in’ were used.

  2. “It wasn’t easy making friends, but it was harder still, to keep them.”

    You killed me with that line. A poet or a songwriter always has this one moment during the writing when he or she feels “YES! THAT’S WHAT I WANTED TO SAY.” This happens when you express yourself in the most killer way possible. This line was YOUR moment. ;)

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