She was made wrong,
wired weird.
Even if, the bones may fit perfectly.
And the joints may seem all ok.
And maybe, she looks human.
But she definitely don't
feel ok.

She feels noise in the quietest of places.
Alone within a crowd,
Crowd of known someone.
Unnecessarily bound.

She was made wrong,
wired weird.
And she knew it within
She would never fit in.
Cause the puzzle was already
complete.
One that would never need that extra piece.

And so she hated herself,
Cause what for, was she even alive?
But it seems death wasn't to anxious
to take over her life.

But like any other story,
One day the spark arose.
A change that was much needed
She finally found something,
that could be close,
like home.

She still is made wrong,
Completely wired weird
Her soul still feels a bit off,
Like barely hanging in there.
But atleast,
She learned to love herself
For she was a picture,
not a piece of puzzle.

She realised,
She wasn't meant to fit in.
She was ok, weird.