Lots of things have changed.
I’m not who I used to be or who I used to know.
In and out is what people do best in life; until I met the misfits.
The ones that don’t get along all the time.
I’ll cut you with a carving knife.
But the ones that know what real family is.
Cigarettes and ashtrays where we were born, but none of us raised.
Love. Family. Stronger as one; whole.
None of us belong.
Trying to find our places in the world; there is no right place for us.
That’s why we’re here.
Straying from the path that our families hoped they had laid out right for us.
Fighting against the world as we go on.
We’re slowly figuring it out.
We see the staring; hear the whispering.
Were the ones they warn you about as a little kid.
But we don’t give up.
We may be the misfits.
But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Picking our feet up, step after step
We ARE misfits; and we’re okay with it.