I suppose I am cheating because this is an old poem. But I have a lot of difficulty with this prompt. For me, the question | How do we go about feeling, finally, comfortable in our own skin?| is something I've grappled with for most of my life. I write a lot about bodies. I think there's something inherently weird about having a body. I don't believe in souls but sometimes, to hear me talk about bodies, you'd think I do. It's not because I think we exist outside of our bodies but I often feel trapped in mine. So for me feeling comfortable in my skin might be harder around other people but it's still something I have to deal with alone as well. My initial reaction to this question was "Change my body," and I don't think that's where you were going with that lil! Haha. My top two choices for mutant/superpowers would still be Mystique and Tonks. I think to truly become comfortable in our bodies we have to accept them. Maybe I can write something humorous about how I'd like to be a man and have a huge cock ;)
In closing: I may come back to this and try to generate something new. But for now this topic has stumped me. #17
I dream. I think…
…if I can shrink enough,
my skin might lose its colored tone. Then we
could look through it, and see my heart. It’s tough,
worn down by stress, but still. We’d find my lacy,
brittle bones and watch dark blood drive down
the highways that my veins traced into place. The lands
inside, revealed for once, are turning brown
because drought spreads. The farmers protest, stand
and raise their voices, but the weather will not change.
What perfect skin! It digs itself into
the grooves of my sharp skeleton, it feigns
a perfect fit. Day by day it grows
a little loose. At least it doesn’t sag. Each night
it shrinks, pulls closer in. Then I wake up tight.