Gray

I wait tensely
on the black, leather couch
as the boy across the room
twitches and contorts his body
and I think I don't belong here
but outside the door
is a world of people
who eat and drink and laugh
every day
and I don't belong there
not now
So, somewhere in the middle
of normalcy and insanity,
I exist as an outcast
of both worlds
and in the secrecy of separate hours
I attempt to conform to each
never quite succeeding
and I wonder if I'm meant
to be either
or if I'm failing to fix this
because it's not broken
because this is just who I am
A category of my own
A clumsy army of one
but solitude has never been my forte
and I don't know how
to exist alone
So for now, I'll let the black and white
tug me to either side
and maybe one day
I'll accept the gray.

07/21/03

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