i do not belong here in this world.
there is no real place for me.
if there is one, it is probably in between
the cracks of a brick building
where no one could see
and i feel pressure coming
from all sides.
i have so much brewing on my insides
that i could open up a factory
and produce emotions unknown to most
on an assembly line of mundane days
and fake smiles
and going to sleep with the hope
that tomorrow will not be as sad
and waking up the next day disappointed that
it is.

i do not know where i belong–
perhaps in an ocean where waves crash and hit me
so that i can wake up swimming and feeling
alive,
so my bruised and atrophied
muscle of a heart can beat
with some sort of energy,
so that numbness will no longer be
a defining factor of me.
i am out of place in this atmosphere where daily
i walk around without my body.
i do not wish to exist in the spirit realm
where the shell of me is lying and trying
to convince others that she
is whole.

i do not belong in a world where
i constantly have to control
my moods and curb
my frustration
and cry
silently
and smile
automatically
and fail
miserably
at being
happy.

i do not belong in this mental state
and i am hoping that one day
i will find my spot where life feels safe,
where grief and hiding abates
and i can finally step
forward
and look in the mirror
at my own face and see
that there is purpose to this pain
and i do
belong
in this world.