Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
It feels like a [monster? slime? creature?]
T H I N G
just clawing away at me.
It overwhelms, and screams, and rips and shreds at my insides,
begging me to take away the parts that aren’t me
that somehow managed to stick on my body anyways.
Body?
Corpse?
Husk.
Shell.
I am stuck in a shell
that i am not supposed to be in,
and i cannot get out no matter how much i  try
to
kick and
flail,
escape attempts are futile until i turn 18.
Hormones are raging at the wrong levels,
and my voice is not my own.
My body does not look how it is supposed to,
like someone has put the head of a ken doll on a barbie’s body.
I am a massacred mr(?) potato head
with mrs. potato head's body parts
shoved in all the wrong places.
It is so painful
to sit in the shower
and cry over the body that is not mine.
And you still believe
that I am your
little “girl”?
Jackal
Written by
Jackal  16/Non-binary
(16/Non-binary)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems