Changeling

Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,
Longing every moment for someone who understands,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

My goals are earned for others' sake; I work to make this body thin,
Keeping suicidal thoughts at bay by taking on crushing demands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,

But lofty goals are difficult when you'd rather die than win,
And feeling like an object when they crave my mouth and hands,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

I'm waved off as melodramatic or accused of sordid spin,
For my way of knowing people and the things their heart commands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,

I think back to the ghostly child who felt the brush of ancient kin,
Who evoked the fear in feeble men more oft than finding any fans,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?

Whether fair folk be, aos sidhe, a demon, or a djinn,
I only say with certainty that I hail from distant lands,
Overcome with anguish each time I wake up in this skin,
Who would want to know this feeling and to sense my form within?  

Catching Up

If you counted my initiatives each dark and lonely morning
The amount of times I said I'd form the words that are adorning-

the fragile grasp I have on life as the ice forms slick and stealthy
as I try to do it right this time- as I try to keep this healthy

I'm weighted by the choices that I cannot seem to shake
The patterns and the habits that I never truly break

The method to my madness that once left me nearly dead
I'm aware of repetition and the resultant sense of dread

And though I fear much for my safety; I'm far more concerned with you
I get so wracked in shame and guilt and waiting for my queue

I can't believe just how much love for you I did procure
That chance that I would let you down is too much to endure

I tried to warn you early on that I was not a winning prize
That I'm rife with woe and oftentimes don't function betwixt the thighs

I'm not sure where I'm going next or how to find a resolution
The days of anhedonia deprive me of the drive for a solution

I just hope you know my time with you has been my greatest solace
And I hope I do not burden you with this path- wayward and goalless