Every time I see a reflection of my body, I see a war. For every victorious battle and nights filled with laughter and beer, For every time I see beauty in my body, There will always be lost souls and early graves, There will always be a spot on what would be considered ugly tainting the picture my reflection paints. I know that every time I feel at home in my own skin, I will simultaneously feel so wrong in my own world. Knowing that I do not fit the mold. But that is just a hot and cold subject, Because I am glad I do fit the standards. I want to break the social construct, I want to bring controlled chaos into the Social Norms Society. But I just want to be accepted. I want to feel like I belong in this world, That there is a place for a person as singular and painstaking Human as me. I want to hope that there is a place in this world for my body, For every shape, curve, and wrinkle that comes in waves over my skin, For every freckle, mole, or beauty mark that paints my canvas skin, Bringing out all the details to catch the eye, For a body as plain and Unique as mine. -J.J. Marie