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.

Normal’s relative
Space is a microcosm
Alien hiding.

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?

Monachopsis says
out of place, not adapted
Clumsy, distracted…

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
effortless normal.

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. 🙂

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