Shifting Her Skin
She never knew her own skin,
For others could not love her skin.
She shifted shape to be in skins
Others wanted her in.
Weary and worn, icy heart growing bestial,
She couldn’t stand her skin in the mirror.
Emptied of everything,
She slipped out of it all.
She stood naked in the light of day,
And wearily she opened her eyes shut tight.
She didn’t know herself,
But she reached out to stroke the reflection.
It was her,
And it wasn’t her.
Somewhere, along the way,
She learned to love her own skin.
She fit the skin she was in,
And she rejected all other skins.
As her shape shifted,
They wanted her skinned alive.
They wanted her raw, naked, and shamed,
So she would crawl back in their skins.
In loving her own skin,
She began a mad crawl to freedom.
Their claws glanced off,
And could not grasp and shred her joy.
