Bit different? Speak with a lisp, or like to read? Long nose, big lips, small ears, weird name, wrong shoes, no dad, no fun, too serious, too dumb, too tall, too short too, too, too- just too something. There is always Something. too loud, too popular, too shy too, too healthy. Can you sing? Shut it. Run fast, row fast, swim fast? Slow down. Create? Destroy. Make a difference? Forget it. Sensitive? Toughen up, you must be gay. Keep your head down, and smile, but not too much. Be fun, but not a clown Stand up, but not too tall. Fake it-make it believable Don’t be a try hard. Try quiet Yes Quietly in your room In tears with the door shut shut to the world shut to the bullies shut to yourself all day long. That part that hurts- the part you’ve kept together now splinters, shatters and breaks into a thousand sharp pieces. Jagged and dangerous. Pieces that can cut, and hurt another with just a swipe or a lashing out. You stare at yourself all smashed apart a mess, a scary mess. Yet slumped on the floor through teary eyes you see yourself like never before. In pieces sharp vivid and distinct, irreplaceable reflecting your eyes, your life your heart. You see pain, but more - The light, the strength, your heart wide open right there in beautiful unique patterns Your pain, arranging the pieces in ways that only you could create. Yes, a jagged and magnificent mess. And then you know there is no “too” anything. There is only You.