Atypical

        Forever on the outside looking in.  At places, I'll never be a part of.  As if, I was born without skin.

         For the blood that marks my hands.  Is a testament to where I've been.  And a  ledger compiling all my sins.

         I don't want to be normal in any way shape or form.  All I want is a place that will keep me warm.  Be in the arms of someone who will shelter me from the storms.

         And let me live in peace even though I think beyond the norm.