I don’t like my skin
It feels wrong to me.
It feels out of place on my bones.
I wish i could fix that,
But I can’t.
It’s part of me.
I want to change it,
Take it off and rearrange it to fit.
I know I should like my skin
I shouldn’t judge it so hard.
I should look in the mirror and like what I see.
But I can’t.
I poke,
Scratch,
Pick,
rip.
I hate this.
This thing called flesh.
The thing over bones.
Why can’t I like it.
You did this.
You make it hard.
You pull and pick me apart.
I want to like it.
I want to like myself.
I want to smile when I see it.
But I don’t.
Because I can’t get out
Of my own skin.