Flesh

I don't know this skin I am in.
This isn't me.

I remember the love I had for myself.
The freedom I felt in my skin.
The passion I had from within
for my life and future...

and now I spend all of my time
in misery
trying to get back to me.

But that body is long gone...
filled with cracks and scars...
covered in flab that I want to see gone,
but it does not melt away
and will leave behind signs.

My body is aging,
and that adds to the struggle.

My skin is no longer my own...
and my mind is going with it.

I can't remember,
and I wish to forget.

I won't let this confusion control me,
but sometimes it feels
as though I have no choice.

Mind and flesh are losing ground,
and I no longer have the strength
to make a sound.

Somewhere in this prison of flesh,
I need to accept
that the woman who was once within,
will not be coming back again.