I Became Such A Strange Shape From Trying to Fit In

When I’m in the corner

I don’t need a helping hand

when I’m in the corner

I want to be alone

cut off my fingers, I don’t care

I need the pain to take me there

beyond the black skin and racist news

beyond the autism and the confusion it brews

beyond the sky and all its blues

the night offers so much wonder

the day offers so much hardship

I don’t know why more people don’t go

I wish I went sooner

the answers lie within our reach

but above us