Something

I'm always something. I'm always the odd one out, I'm always the loud one, I'm always the stupid one, the one who talks too much, the one who stays too quiet, the one people remember for all the wrong reasons. And yet I'm always not something. Not smart enough, not thin enough, not clean enough, not quite enough. Not funny enough to make them stay. Not interesting enough to make them listen. Not pretty enough to be wanted. Not enough. Too much and not enough at the same time. Too loud, too awkward, too emotional, too difficult. But somehow still not enough. I am every label until it matters. Every joke until I'm serious. Every choice until I'm the wrong one. And maybe that's the cruelest part— I'm always something. Just never the right thing.