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“The laces, untied, the socks won't match. I won't know what to wear and when to wear it and I am rubbish at the small talk required to fit into places I've never bothered to fit into. There are square pegs that spend their lives trying to squeeze into round holes, but I wasn't even given four straight sides, I am shapes when none are required, I am a million wrongs stuffed into something I never asked if it was right. I am this, and I've never been that, I've no plans to remedy the broken bits.” — Tyler Knott Gregson
The laces, untied, the socks won't
match. I won't know what to wear
and when to wear it and I
am rubbish at the small talk required
to fit into places I've never bothered
to fit into. There are square pegs
that spend their lives trying to squeeze
into round holes, but I wasn't even
given four straight sides, I am shapes
when none are required, I am
a million wrongs stuffed into
something I never asked if it
was right. I am this, and I've
never been that, I've no plans
to remedy the broken bits.