Wistful Declarations

the battle to Belong

So . . . .

sometimes I feel like I’m an unloved toy;

a piece of a puzzle but from a different box. 

I feel like I need to be someone I’m not,

so that I can finally fit in

- somewhere, anywhere.

  

my voice fails me,

too many times to recall.

my chest aches,

until I feel so incomprehensibly small.

  

I try hiding,

putting on a mask.

faking my identity,

creating a new past. 

my personality;

once shunned, 

is now replaced with,

someone different. 

with fake laughs,

and false smiles

it seemed like a useless battle.

there then began to be a time,

when I could smile comfortably.

a feeling of connection,

occurred almost simply.

  

I felt who I was,

and I liked this me.

for the first time in ages,

I felt kinda free.

I didn’t have to fit,

but I could be myself.

and was comfortable and safe,

and welcome more than anything else.

I no longer have to think,

even when everything is being questioned.

I am oddly content,

and I know somehow that others are too.

I’ve been hopelessly blinded,

by this toxic idea.

to be someone I’m not,

that I didn’t realise it’s not worth it, 

and that I am enough just as I am.