Broken

I think I may be broken

I think that’s how they see me.

I think that’s how I feel.

I think that’s how it’ll be

I’ve always been rather different

I’ve always been an odd boy

And I’ve always question what those around me do

And why it brings them such joy

I am a creature of passion and indifference.

For the things I enjoy, those few and far between

I focus on so intently. Everything else

I don’t care about, with no real middle ground to be seen.

And in those things of void

Of disinterest, indifference, and such

I see everyone else around me

Focus on them so damn much

I see works of art dedicated to them

 Entire lifestyles that they revolve around

Yet it’s done so childishly

And with no insight to be found

And worst of all

Is when they pressure and they force

And they expect me to care

Because it’s normal, a matter of course

They say that I’ll change

That I’ll be normal like them

And the way I feel will disappear

And be forgotten, as though it had never been

But I don’t want to be normal

I want to be heard and seen

I want them to understand my feelings

And get what I mean

So, I write about my apathy

I write about my few joys

To provide a balance of perspective

And give a voice, to those girls and boys

Who maybe think they are broken.