deepundergroundpoetry.com
Certain Exile
No one truly knows the weight of certainty,
The kind that whispers you don’t belong anywhere.
Not just the ache of feeling out of place,
But the cold, sharp truth of knowing it.
Familiar faces do not bring comfort,
Only the reminder that you are somewhere you do not fit.
The streets you grew up walking feel like strangers.
Each turn offers nothing but emptiness,
A longing for something you cannot name,
Something you are certain does not exist.
It is not just voices that drift past,
They are languages you will never understand,
Echoes that bounce off your silence,
Leaving you untouched, unseen,
Like you are a shadow that even the light ignores.
The pain lies in knowing.
Knowing you have no anchor, no corner of the world
That will hold you like it holds others.
Not just feeling lost,
But understanding there is no map,
No destination where you will be whole.
The kind that whispers you don’t belong anywhere.
Not just the ache of feeling out of place,
But the cold, sharp truth of knowing it.
Familiar faces do not bring comfort,
Only the reminder that you are somewhere you do not fit.
The streets you grew up walking feel like strangers.
Each turn offers nothing but emptiness,
A longing for something you cannot name,
Something you are certain does not exist.
It is not just voices that drift past,
They are languages you will never understand,
Echoes that bounce off your silence,
Leaving you untouched, unseen,
Like you are a shadow that even the light ignores.
The pain lies in knowing.
Knowing you have no anchor, no corner of the world
That will hold you like it holds others.
Not just feeling lost,
But understanding there is no map,
No destination where you will be whole.
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