Tailor Unavailable for Alterations

alternatively titled, "Free Alterations Available With In-Store Purchase!"



I wear my skin as an ill-fitting suit
of clothes; in some places
too baggy and too loose, and
in others too close and too
tight.

I am too much to fit
beneath the confines of my skin.
There is no comfort here,
there is no defense
from the outside world; it seeps
through the porous protection
of my tenuous flesh.

The elements are contained within
me, locked behind the heavy clothing
of my skin. I am a tempest
in a teapot, and my porcelain shell is
instead the poor elastic fit of humanity.
There are no ties that I unlace, no snaps
or grommets; no buckles or belts; no zippers,
clasps, or buttons—no seams to rip
so as to let loose the building pressure
beneath each stitch.

There is no tailor who may ease
this uncomfortable fit; there is
no cut-and-stitch that will remedy this awkward
between-the-sizes sensation in my own flesh.

I shall be my own tailor, it seems,
and fit my self to my flesh
and my flesh to my self. I have some growing
yet to do, and perhaps along the way
my hacked stitches and seams shall become
the glorious embroidery I dream of, and then
my skin shall fit perfectly.