Inside Your Skin

Forgive me,
I tried to steal your skin
and walk in your footsteps
but I fell, again and again.
I scuffed your knees (they bleed),
and broke the lace of your shoe.
But inside your skin, I saw the truth:
I’m not you and I never will be.
The skin didn’t fit tight or true,
so I’ll leave it here, sloughed off
just for you.

I’ve got a new thing.
Anonymous words and typing
things that aren’t something
you can zip up,
not that you’d want to.

It’s old and dying,
but I’m still trying
to be me
and not
you.


© CGT, 2018.

Talk to me.