This Hat

It doesn't match what I'm wearing.
I know that sounds a little girly but,
I'm wearing it to cover my nest.
Yeah. My nest.
That pile of tangles of hair and grease and, I think that is yesterday's breakfast.
I'm not sure.
Whatever it is, I want to hide it.
Beneath this hat.
I don't even know where I got this hat.
I just know it was in my closet this morning after I looked myself in the mirror and said:
"You look terrible."
I kind of felt terrible.
Not like the belly ache that makes me want to puke,
But like the "I have to pretend today," that makes me want to puke.
I have to pretend that I exist, and that I don't.
I have to pretend that I was brave, and that I was a coward.
Pretending to be someone that's "normal" when, in fact, no one is.
No one is.
And I feel like a loser for believing them.
The ones who say what is normal, what is average, and what is expected of me.
It is expected that I am above that average, reaching higher highs than that average,
When in truth, only 50% of people are above average.
And I just want to hide. Just like this thing on top of my head.
This nest of twisted clumps of hair, when really the only thing twisted is this hat that hides it.
This hat that doesn't match what I'm wearing.