Body rot, foreign and odd

Through the looking glass, 

I can see the body, 

Oh, it’s mine, is it?

It’s mine you say

So foreign and odd,

The body with rot

Often, I walk

awkwardly, 

clumsy in pace 

shifting around, adjusting my face 

It feels like someone else is wearing my body 

It feels out of place 

Home is where the heart is 

This heart nestled inside a cavity, 

A body, 

Its insides too large, 

too raw

and too cold, 

to find a home in this body 

is to wander tunnels endlessly 

a lonely journey,

never-ending

you’re left in a dying home 

all alone with a body that can’t love you 

and a will that can’t save 

stuck with the body rot 

A lingering itch 

settles underneath my skin

The rot has penetrated the bones

its begging to escape 

My mind is yelling

constantly thinking

Of what could be 

If I could unzip my skin and step away 

find a real home, 

See the real me 

I see myself everyday

Through mirrors and windows

My eyes untouched

looking pure and bright

The rot hasn’t touched those yet

The itch, the burn, the need

To crawl out of my skin and be freed, 

to escape this body rot, so foreign and odd, 

so overwhelming, it leaves an ache 

so painful in its wake 

Crawling away would allow me to change 

But how much can someone change 

turn into someone else, slip into new shoes, 

new skin and a new face

Before it becomes murder?