I once was asked 
with such a knowing look 
If i felt like i fit in 
truth be told, I believe we both knew 
That I was the torn page in such a pristine book 

My eyes glanced around the room 
glimpses of man 
contained
I glance back 
forcing myself to engage
in our current conversation 

“well it’s obvious that
I’m not like them”
I mumble with a nervous smile. 
‘That’s true,
you have style,
a flare about you.”
I respond with a genuine smile 

I go home and think about that interaction for a while 
I don’t think I want to fit in 
I think i’m okay with being the only bird separated on the wire
I think I’m okay with being an outlier.