I squiggle and squirm
Trying to find a place
Inside this suit of skin I wear
Try to display my feelings on my face

But no matter how I shift and slide
There is no room for me here
In this skin in which I hide
Where I live with my fear

I wonder constantly
How does everyone seem so comfortable?
So happy and free?
In their very own skin
How are they different from me?

I see them walking
Confident
Hips swaying
Moving with no consequence

How can I love myself
If I don't even feel comfortable with myself?

In other words,
How do I love a stranger?

You have officially confirmed it.
I am a monster.
Now its not only what I see,
But its what you see too.