I\'m a cactus
My skin is ugly and untouchable
Bumpy, rough, not smooth
Unpleasant to look at
Nobody wants to touch the spikes of a cactus
In the same way, nobody wants to touch me
I have my own spikes
I try to get rid of them, but they fight back
My skin is prickly, I don\'t expect anyone to understand
My skin is covered in bright, red splotches and and sores that leave dark marks
All from the effort of trying to remove thorns that don\'t belong
And scars from when I was my enemy
Wrinkled, bunched-up, leathery, dry, patchy
As if it can\'t retain moisture
That disgusts you right? That\'s what I\'m afraid of
Darkness on the joints of my body
Even worse, bumps that come from hormones and anxiety
Wasn\'t all that enough?
Why me?
Am I even human?
I hide what I hate, and I hate what I hide
I don\'t expect you to understand
My arms aren\'t arms, my legs aren\'t legs, my stomach isn\'t a stomach
I don\'t call my body a body
And I don\'t consider the thing that covers it \"skin\"
Even the thought of showing it makes me sick
Makes my stomach churn, makes me terrified and sweaty
I could shower for hours, scrub until I bleed
And yet, never feel clean
I feel like there are insects all over my skin, and I can\'t get them off
Don\'t look at me, don\'t look at my face
My fellow cacti stand in deserts, exposed
They can\'t be embarrassed, since there is nobody there
But since I\'m surrounded by people, I have to hide and cover
I am the cactus girl
All I want is to be held, to be hugged
To not flinch and panic when someone looks at me closely, or touches me
I am the cactus girl
Who is the only one of her kind
I am the cactus girl
Nobody will touch me, and I can\'t blame them
And just like how a cactus stores water
Along with my tears
I keep all of this inside.