you feel out of place out of tune as if you've fallen through the wrong cracks to end up in a home that belongs to someone else.
like a word that doesn't quite rhyme; but sits in the middle of a story that everyone skips to read the ending. misplaced by a writer who was in a rush.
a little lonely in the crowded room a little claustrophobic in an empty one you feel out of place.
the fan creaks from the ceiling as the sun burns through the summer days.
you miss the rain, not the kinda one every poet romanticize about these days. but the wild ones that they don't write about, the ones that drown the empty streets with the heavy falls, the ones that drown you to the depths. you miss the chaos.
days are poignant, you stare at the crossroads that lead to more crossroads in a sadistic loop. you feel out of place like a mouse that runs through a maze.
all the songs that made sense once don't feel the same anymore. so, you press next till you fall asleep. like love, you feel out of tune.
maybe it's certain words that everyone ever cared about. never about the one that died in between. the one that never belonged.