Uncontrollable Heart Book 2 (Poetry) (Journaling)

Where I Belong

Growing up, I thought people were born with their heads cocked, because thats how they've always looked at me. Boxes... check one, check other. People don't know. They don't furrow between the layers like I do. They dont switch and twitch and activley make the decisions of which... which part of me belongs today? Which aspect of my personality will offend the least and blend the most, and work and succeed and bury the lead like a switchboard of traits that decide my fate, and im always an imposter. Always lost, always looking for directions, and people pointing my way like the scarecrow. Like tornados blowing me whichever way the wind blows. Well dorothy doesn't wanna play today. She's preparing for the SAT. Just the scantron. The box is empty, glaring and daring me to chose one. Well im an expert at boxes. My whole life could fit inside it, and I've got it down like a science. I can pack my entire identity in an hour 'cause where theres roots, theres power, but im all topsoil. My blood runs like water and oil refusing to stick. My dads old books, read in secret nooks. That camera that locks all my memories in a flash, saved for when my recollection doesn't last. That lighter that sparked that fire. All fit in a box ready to be carried from door to door. But thats not the kind of box people ever ask for. So many lines in the sand, so many cants and cans. I see both worlds so clearly, and I skip and jump and dance and fall between, never seen. I belong in the spaces inbetween. Check all that apply.