They say to love the skin you’re in but what if beneath it’s so much worse? Sometimes I feel my body is cursed. I cannot wash it hard enough or make it look slightly tough. I am who I am despite what people see. I am who I am ugly or pretty. You say I am soft; I say I am cold. You say I look young; I say I feel old. You say I look nice; I tell you look twice. You say I look mean; I say judge not what can be seen. I hide myself beneath a mask; you can’t see me even if you ask. My skin’s a fancy luxury It allows me to show what I want to be seen. When you tell me to love the skin I’m in I’ll do my best; it’s easier than loving all of the rest.