Who am I?
What have I done?
I don't understand this skin I'm in.
The arms and legs are scarred with varying straight lines.
The torso is wide and the knees wobble when I walk.
The feet turn in and it hurts to correct.
The thighs are to big to even fit.

Who am I?
What's been happening?
I don't understand this body I'm in.
It's always sick and the skin rips too easily.
The fingernails grow way to quickly and the eyes are too big.
The freckles are uneven and there are to many pimples to count.

Who am I?
Where have I been?
I don't understand this heart and mind I'm in.
There are dark corners and shallow hallways.
Doors stay shut and I'm rather afraid.
There's an air of sadness and anxiety now,
And I don't know why I suddenly feel so alone.
There are cracks in the wall and the foundation always quivers,
Its as if it's made of glass and paper.

This body I now occupy has obviously seen rough times
This skin has obviously been cut way to many times
And this mind and heart has been shattered and put together to many times and it's missing pieces.
But I know there is a soul somewhere inside here
Trapped in a paper wall and to malnurished to move.
So until she can be found I'll nurish her mind and heart with poetry and books so she can grow big and strong.
Maybe someday she'll be strong enough to break the wall and take her place.
Back at the thrown in the heart.
Shell finally be while again.