Not quite “Normal.”

I wonder what it means to be normal.

Is it the same for everyone?

Do we each build our own cage

or are we all just following the same design?

*

You say you don’t care,

but I see how you bend your shape

to fit inside what’s expected,

how your words fall short

because you’re measuring them

against someone else’s script.

And I can’t help but wonder:

Is this your voice?

Or is it borrowed from the noise around you?

*

You hold yourself back

when your thoughts overflow.

You silence your body

when it needs to move,

need to fidget, need to breathe.

*

Why try to be something you’re not?

Why force yourself to blend,

to fit the mold

when you were made to break it?

*

I am here, too—

not fitting, never quite “normal.”

But I’ll take this mess of mine,

this chaos of thoughts and sounds and movements.

*

Sometimes weak, sometimes uncertain,

but never less than whole.

These are the cards I’ve been given,

and I will play them until I win.

Too different, too offbeat, way off from the norm—

but my name will echo across the world.