The Skin I Never Chose

The Skin I Never Chose They brought the weather in from outside And they pinned it to my chest They buttoned up a heavy coat That never fit my frame I didn’t choose the fabric I didn’t draw the lines Now they’re measuring the hallway Arguing what’s mine A little room of mirrors In a house of constant noise And the adults are in the hallway Dividing up the bone They write their battles on the skin That I thought was my own The ink is setting in The walls begin to press Trapped inside the skin I never chose Stitched together with their thread and prose They carved their names in places I was never meant to see Now every mirror’s lying And the building’s swallowing me Give me back my body Before they sealed the door I’m looking at the old snapshots Before the labels came to stick Before they hung the mirrors Where my real face used to fit They need another story To carve inside my frame They need another chapter For a book that wears my name I’m just the quiet tenant In a house I didn’t build And the adults are in the hallway Dividing up the bone They write their battles on the skin That I thought was my own The ink is setting in The walls begin to press Trapped inside the skin I never chose Stitched together with their thread and prose They carved their names in places I was never meant to see Now every mirror’s lying And the building’s swallowing me Give me back my body Before they sealed the door Trapped inside the skin I never chose Stitched together with their thread and prose They carved their names in places I was never meant to see Now every mirror’s lying And the building’s swallowing me Give me back my body Before they sealed the door Give me back my body Before they sealed the door Let me leave the room.