I stare at my legs, my arms,
My face, my chest,
The body that isn't me.
Each curve feels wrong,
Each inch a reminder
Of a self I can never be.

This body is a lie,
A mask I must wear,
A skin that doesn’t fit,
A reflection of despair.
I trace the lines,
The edges, the weight,
A form that feels foreign,
That drags me in hate.

I don't belong here,
Not in this shape,
Not in this skin,
Not in this cage.
I long to tear it apart,
To shed it like a leaf,
To find the self I’m meant to be,
And end this silent grief.

But the mirror keeps showing
A face that isn’t mine,
A body that...