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Jay Apr 26
Pain wracks my fragile bones.
Everything hurts me,
So please, please don't
Come close or touch me.

I can't look at my body
Because it isn't what I want.
I know it's selfish, you see,
But it's a paper without a font.

My skin is a tapestry of
Beauty and pretty and all
In the perfect girl you'd love,
But guys: absolutely appalled.

Nothing matched on me-
I'm the missing left sock,
My bones' rattle is all I'll be
Until I take the final walk.
Just another day of being awake at 0300 and being unable to go back to sleep... Dysphoria knocks to the ground my mortal frame, shaking and quaking with power (or lack thereof).
Kai Dec 2019
It’s hard to breathe when I see
A body that doesn’t belong to me
It’s hard to rid water drops
When I ponder when will it ever stop

Cascading brown hair of mine
Dreamed to cut it for a couple of dimes
My lilted feminine voice
Reminds me I am a girl with no choice

Who is that in front of me?
An imposter, a demon, could it be?
My soul breaks into a weep
Until, there stood somebody just like me

Hair silky, smooth, white like snow
His porcelain complexion barely glows
Peach pouty and heart shaped lips
Eyes are deep black caves, like a mystic maze

Earbuds glued into his ears
Face of dopiness or could it be fear?
Slender, short legs carry him
When he passes by I stupidly grin

When will I see him again?
Forget it, he’s likely graduating
Dejection bounced in my mind
Where I’m from, my kind of love was a crime

Two and a half years passed by
I’m in the big school and no longer shy
Walked the great halls with belief
Until, there stood somebody just like me

He did change and so has I
I cut my hair, but he’s got the same eyes
Tousled rough black hair, shaved sides
Much less heavy, which came by a surprise

Our eyes locked like magnets
Studied his lips, my gaze hard as granite
His shoulder brushed against mine
Stomach tingles and my heart intertwines

Staring at him paralyzed
I cannot look away, I don’t know why
He looks like someone I know
Someone I knew back a while ago

Is it wrong if I pursue?
Do you think it’s weird that I follow you?
Hopeless like a winter tree
Until, there stood somebody just like me

Once it’s over I’ll feel blue
When you graduate I won’t forget you
Hope you’ll remember me too
It’s nice to have someone to relate to
This is a poem I wrote for a guy in school who inspires me more than anyone ever could.
Update: We're friends :)
Arden Sep 2019
I look at my chest the way I'd look at a wound
I know its a part of me  
I know its there  
but it feels temporary  
and a little gross
like I sliced my thumb  
on glass at 1 am  
my binder is a bandage  
and it's hard to take off
because the wound will open up  
And my back hurts wearing from bandage  
But it's so much better than  
Seeing where my skin splits in two
polka Nov 2018
I might secretly be a snake

it feels as if I'm wearing my own skin as a mask

it is no longer my own

and no one wants to buy a used skin...

I wish a snake would tell me how to shed it.

but if I do, will I still be a person? will I still be the same?

I...

I suppose i'll... keep wearing the full body mask, and try to remember the mannerisms of me, so no one gets suspicious.

it's working so far.

but I think that's because the humans around me aren't looking for the right things, if at all...

I'd like to meet other snakes.
don't ask what my obsession with skin as of late is about because bud i dont have an answer for you
Ray Ross Nov 2018
I look at my chest the way I'd look at a wound
I know it's a part of me,
I know it's there,
But it feels temporary,
And a little gross,
Like when I sliced my thumb
On glass at 1am.
My binder is a bandage
And it's hard to take it off,
Because I feel the wound open up,
And my back hurts from wearing the bandage,
But it's so much better than
Seeing where my skin splits in two
Alfa Oct 2018
I carve myself out of a cardboard cutout,
I wish I wasn't empty,
stuck between two worlds that do not want me.

I am like the globe,
shattered.

Rushing blood gurgles through my veins to my head, my
words sound like Russian out my hot mouth
"so spicy"
they say it cause I'm foreign to them.
My blood pressure rises,
makes
the tea kettle screams,
on the perfect pictured home oven,
i am fuming.

I look out at the white picket fence,
raised oppressed gates,
overtaxed, overcharged, overfed, rising still.

The fury builds inside me,
I stomp the fence,
break the oven,
crash the globe,
and weep at the crap I was made out of.

we will never win.

but, it doesn't matter if we're the minority or majority,
the darker you are,
the faster you talk,
the farther away from the home land
  ...                                                       ­     

they'll still give you the gun.

           But, they'll blame you for everything that happens after.
A comment on American societies mental illness, health crisis, racial racism/stereotyping, gun laws, my own identity as a first generation american from immigrant parents, and how chaotic, hopeless, and dissociated I feel about my own self. How apart I feel from America's "dream" and what America really is today... thank you for reading.
Kellin Jun 2018
I
Have
Become a
Prisoner
in my own skin
Blake Feb 2018
who are you?
please tell me for i'd love to know
i'll invite you in for tea and biscuits, you can tell me everything
please tell me who you are
i'd really love to know
for otherwise you're nothing more than just a stranger to me.
-i want to know who the person living in my skin is

— The End —