his skin feels so small
it doesn't fit him
he screams and screams
hoping that someone will hear him
and give him a better body
one that fits right
one that's not stained with tears
one that's not scraped and battered
"Don't you love yourself?"
they ask
"God gave you a perfectly good body!"
it's not a matter of love
it's a matter of claustrophobia
it's a matter of screaming until your throat's raw
until you can't do anything else
it's a matter of holding your breath to make it all go away

oh, oh

mother please come back

oh, oh,

someone please notice my silent screams for help

oh,oh
oh,oh

and still the world turns
and still he cries
and still people insist
on calling him the wrong things
and still he is scared
scared and disgusted
not by the body
but by the fact that this body
is his.