Skin

skin

I’m skin. I’m very clever.
I’d change colors and you
wouldn’t even know.

Sometimes, I’ll define you
and your aspirations.
You won’t get it but
I’ll seep in, from the surface
to your mind.
Too dark, too light, too rough,
I’ll never be enough.
And thus, I’ll define you.
Don’t let me.

I’d start off really mellow, soft, fresh
into the bright new world.
Unafraid and ready.

I’ll get bruises and bumps,
I’ll turn blue-black
and all the other shades of
life, misfortune, defeat and dismay.
Without you realizing when,
or knowing what to say,
I’ll become a part of the ravages
of the sun and the struggles and
trying and failing and falling.

I’m a witness
of your moments of weakness
as much as of your strength.

I saw what you did
when no one was looking.
I watched you trying to change me
into who I’m not. I watch you hide me,
but I’ll remember it, and I’ll remind you
of what all I was, what all I can be,
of what you are and what all you can be.
and even as you loathe the sight of me,
even though you’re more,

I am a part of you.
I’ll define you.
This time, let me.

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