My skin is the base, for it is the cloth of creation.
Next is the first piece, made to cover my innocence.
Then comes the denim, sliding over my legs.
When I receive the top, I find it is a case.
It hides away the childish side but other days the bind does not try to hide.
The shoes are the choice because as I learn to take them off I also learn to put them on.
I am dressed and ready to go, but wait and stop at the door,
Because these clothes do not fit any more.
Soon comes the bands to tie up my hair, after I have gotten all of my new pairs.
Frames are places upon my face. They are a cage and the beginning of my change.
Then the spikes are added bottoms of my sneakers because the race is beginning to start.
I stop again, another interference,
The weather has begun to change again.
I head to the room and peal everything off only to once put it on again
The one thing remains, and it is my layer of skin, it is the one that will stay even at the end.
Soon new clothes cover, the bottoms and then the tops, still in the same order.
Then stop once more because something has been forgotten.
It is too late now, they go over the shoes.
Throw on a hat to cover my tangled locks and a scarf to cover the marks.
Later is the paint, to cover the mistakes.
I walk out the door and realize I am different.
My socks are on, but over my flats. Sorry, I missed a step and had to go back.
It’s too hot for my scarf so I take it off. Then underneath is all the paint.
I used it to cover all of the mistakes but it itself was one in the same.
I can feel the stares although none existed. I hid in the bathroom to change my reflection.
There is no chance now because what I wear is now all that is there.
I go back out and hold my head high, after I covered myself, from the human eye.