Member-only story
How Is It To Be The Other
When you never quite fit into anything
I knew it from the moment of consciousness
the clashing of neurons
causing the creation of the me you see
that I was “they,” the other
that needs to hide in plain sight
yet I do and I don’t to survive
you know instinctively
this doesn’t fit
into a herd mentality
I am the animal foraging
on her own path, nose deep within
smelling of inane things
that can’t be explained
it’s instinctually different
my devices cause your
indecisiveness to bristle at
the mere exclamation of my existence
“are you drunk? Drugged? Damaged?”
The questions claim my exclamation
I’m not added by anything but I am damaged
broken, irreverent, irreplaceable
I’ve felt in bones and marrow
I’ll never quite fit the box design
of this world so I break the corners
chasing my own tail like infinity
your stares meant to burn me back
to where you stand and follow
only warm the insides of that cozy hole
I’ve created to be whatever this is
the other I wear on my sleeve
“they” is my other name
definitions are meant to be
remade into my damned dialect.
