• When you're an outsider,
    a 13 in a group of 7's,
    you realize some things.

    Maybe you're not welcome.
    Wanting to feel welcome,
    to be accepted is like being fire;
    just wishing to be snow.
    Impossible.

    I'm watching from the ouside,
    wishing to fit in with the
    people I call my friends.

    Wishing I had someone to trust,
    to look up too.
    Someone to pick me.
    Knowing I'm not needed is enough.

    I can't cry when I have no tears left.
    I can't scream when my throats already dry.
    I can't die when my heart's been dead for awhile.
    I can't fit in anywhere when I've been an outsider.
    I can't love until I feel loved.

    I can't be a friend;
    a insider,
    someone who belongs;
    Until I accept who I am.