New Skin Poem by Tabitha Castillo

My old skin had scars and marks since birth.
It fit like a snug blanket and gloved my fingers.
A very wash and go type of being.
How clearly everything was through the eyeholes.
How simply tailored was my being.

I’ve a new skin now whose scars aren’t that well defined.
People see this skin and listen to what is has to say.
But the hands are strange and I don’t always trust what they do.
And I can’t think easily behind this fleshy mask and believe
That everything I do now is a direct product of me following my heart.
My mind never rests in this skin
It just ticks on like an ever present sundial.
Perhaps it is just growing pains, but I can’t stretch in this skin
And sometimes I feel that in its suffocating folds
I am lying in just a warm straight jacket.
I was led to believe that beneath the clothes and the piercings
Beneath the scars and testaments of time
The true me was still housed.
It feels like I am always searching through heavy laundry
Sifting through clouded reasoning.
I now doubt what I do-
And it is this startling realization that makes me uncomfortable....
In my own skin....