Weird people
Not
the different
Not
the odd
Not
the dysfunctional
Round
peg in square hole
Types
But
the weird
Those
who are kind of
Slippery
and glossed
Calm
and sallow with a
Volume
never above a mediocre
Voice
Untrustworthy
and nauseating
Happy
and agreeable and
Out
for themselves only
Ever
and for
Ever
They
are sly and cut like razors
And
so you bleed out before even
Finding
a wound
And
they are the majority
The
climbers like
Spiders
on a web of success
Reaching
the top and dying
Still
ignorant but richer
Than
You.
Normal people
We
are small
And
caring and look too far
See
too much
We
understand the fire
The
insect and the elephant
You
have no idea
The
difficulty in maintaining this
Façade
To
awaken every morning into anything but
Normality
And
yet still become the shape of it
The
weight of normality continuing
Permanently
crushing
Unceasing
and tireless
Our
days an unseen high-wire act
Between
street and office and café and
Finally
home
And
throughout our finite tolerance
We
still manage to love and compound our art
Into
the everyday hum
And
it becomes at times impossible
To
maintain the
Façade
that we are part of this
Normality
Middling
Fitting
Square
onto square onto
Square
And
we are small
But
not the smallest
We
look too far but are not blinded
By
it
We
are nothing like you.