I’m such an awkward girl.
I’m not quite comfortable inside of here.
Inside my skin that is.
Sometimes it doesn’t even feel like mine.
I mean how could it be when it rubs and chafes against me so.
Maybe when I was younger someone took my skin and replaced it with this ill-fitting thing.
Too many years of, “You are such a pretty girl….”
This skin has been stretched out of shape by all the years of trying to make it conform to others wishes.
All those wants, desires and thoughts pushing up against me and this skin.
Perhaps this lack of fit is all my own doing.
Too many days with eyes averted from mirrored reflections.
Too much leaning on others to tell me, something…anything.
Always searching for someone who resembled me.
But how could I find them?
When the me in this skin isn’t really me.
Because this skin don’t fit.
And I’m trading it in.
Wanted: New Skin.