Makes us cookies cut
square pegs that fit life’s square holes
while we scream inside
Not my habitat, not my monument…
I nuzzle philosophy, but stand in
its shadow; disconnected firmament
spins–society defines all therein.
Space is a microcosm
It starts slow, a subtle feeling rising.
Out of place, out of time, I don’t belong.
Can’t adjust, too abstracted, lumbering..
Ambient noise jars, where do I belong?
out of place, not adapted
Persistent questions, what the hell’s normal?
Monachopsis sets in again makes me
seek misfits, huddle close–still not normal.
World’s unrecognizable, ’cause it’s Hell.
Seek a fluid place
Where I’m brilliant, alive, home
Needless normal things…I wake not impressed.
Lacerate history, reveal truths guessed.
Splash water on face
dab on makeup to cover
normal is a mask.
~ ~ ~
What is normal?
~ ~ ~
This fictional account is for the A to Z Blog Challenge as well as NaNoPoMo and was prompted by Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie’s Wordle #105. I am very grateful for the prompt; I used every word. 🙂