Everything is fantastic, euphoric even.
People who've been there from the start surround you,
Laughing, joking, smiling, even mum is bragging.
“Yeah, I have the best daughters ever.”

The word echoes, a shotgun blast among serenity.
A trigger pulled, barrel locked with two eyes.
The whole of the gathering still overjoyed,
But that’s light years away.

Shift around; a slime is on your skin.
No wait, it’s broken the surface.
You revolting slop, who do you think you are?
You don’t belong here.

Tendrils, groping, ripping.
They don’t care at all.
Hatred down to the very core.
Nothing about this creature is right.

The world around oscillates,
The clack of the tracks; rouse about some more.
Monotonously rising, to the deadly edge, thinking
“who am I, where do I belong?”

Numb, cold, that’s all that’s left.
Thirsty, sweating, drowning.
To anyone else, everything is okay,
So why is everything so wrong?

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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