The Dance Of Belonging

Absence breeds many hollows,
For me it was loneliness;
Deep and dark in its expanse.
It was also a need to belong,
At whatever cost.

It creeps up on you,
This desperate need for approval;
You start out happy and content,
Your skin feels like your own,
Until it doesn’t.

It’s in the little things,
The careful laughs,
The measured steps,
The slow and painful death;
Of all you once loved.

You think you belong,
That you finally fit in,
But it itches;
This crafted persona is stuffy,
So it starts to tear and run.

To belong is a dance,
A shallow, measured one.
It gets easier with time;
As life unfolds,
As self-acceptance grows.