Skin Poem by Joan Hart

This skin I wear
Doesn’t fit
It’s tight in some places,
Smothering me
Other parts drag the ground
Like a dead, useless corpse
A train of a dress
That’s not mine
Like a wedding dress
At a funeral
I try to fool them,
Convince them
Of the fit
But they don’t pay attention –
It’s only me
Scratching at this
Foreign
Skin
That knows
I am an imposter,
Screaming for someone
To call my bluff,
To rip off this skin
That’s suffocating me
To reveal
Me
So I can
Breath
Again