A Masterpiece Or Masterpieces? Poem by R. A.M

It's drizzling not pouring,
I'm listening not talking
I'm an unborn baby disguised as a 15 year old;
Not all will comprehend, l think maybe just those who are stuck in the same
chokehold.

At home it's do this do that
and at school it's you're skinny or you're fat.
My first name's Belle meaning beautiful in French
But insecurity is my middle name.
All the shaming injures my soul and pain has turned into anger;
an incapacitated heart yearns to fight but it never progresses past the hands in
a clench.

It's drizzling not pouring,
it seems like I'm crying but if you look closely I'm roaring.
I've been silenced since birth,
The deficiency is beginning to bloom but it's not nutritional
it's my lack of self-worth.

Now it's pouring
and for great heights I'm soaring.
I've been let out of the womb.
All of a sudden I'm seen and a part of the room.
My wings have finally stretched out
But they all tell me I've taken the forbidden and unacceptable route.

Usually it's society that does not accept a person;
My case is extremely unusual because society is my best friend
and when I'm around ‘family' all l can do is pretend.

You'd expect me to be relieved that it's no longer
do this and do that;
but now some of the words that gracefully exit their mouths
Leave me wounded and are the shovels digging my 10 feet deep grave.
My situation is really unusual.

My bad, the rain has stopped and that's all for now;
maybe there'll be more rain in the next life.
It will have a rainbow,
I hope.