Nostalgia

So, I was cleaning out an old memoir tub of things from elementary thru highschool.

I came across a poem that had no name on it, but it was clearly typed by myself or someone close to me. Knowing my family, it was either me or a sister, but I don't remember the poem and my sister knows she didn't write it (I called her).

Anyway... reading over it, if it indeed was mine, makes me wonder what was going on that I felt so ... well... alone.

"In My Head"

I sit alone
and try to hide.
I appear a clone
but I'm different inside.
I got the hair,
I got the clothes,
I really care
but nobody knows.
Alone in my world
no one can relate,
like dreams that have curdled
this is destiny,
my fate.
My thoughts are vast,
my opinions strong
my words will last,
when my body is gone.
I sit in the back
with an evil glare,
in confidence I lack,
friendship too afraid to share.
How'd you get this way
one may inquire
the way they said things they say
the way they looked, with eyes of fire.
I never fit in
they didn't like me much.
To be me was a sin,
imagination was my crutch.
To coping with life,
to coping with pain
Through suffering and strife,
to feeling insane.
I saw their rage
They didn't like my tone.
They put me in a cage,
now I'm dying

.......alone

If this was something I wrote (though I guess I kinda gotta accept it as mine - one line seems very familiar "dreams that have curdled") thinking back, it sorta feels like how I felt when we first moved to Alaska, and Mom stayed in Iowa for an extra few months to get things taken care of and the house sold.

I hat no friends, was living with my step-father and step-brother, and we were *NOT* getting along.