some of us,
our lives,
our stories,
our beliefs.
don’t fit the world’s mold.
so we
fall through the cracks
and sprout up a
weed.
to be trodden on by
the passerbys.
an unsightly blemish
the normies
would rather not recognize,
but we’re there all the same
and grow in
disharmony with one another.
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Excellent!! I love the imagery
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This is how I felt as an undiagnosed female with Aspergers.
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