I Don't Want Any of This

October 18, 2011
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Look at these large ears,
I can hear everything, hear the cries of my friends.
Look at my trunk, it's protruding and obnoxiously long,
I'm supposed to use this to drink?
Look at my brain, I can remember everything,
I can remember my mother's death by poachers.
I don't want any of this.

Look at my skin,
so green and slimy.
It's disgusting, my voice, I only croak.
Look at my feet,
their odd form, their webbed marriage.
I don't want any of this.

Look at my body,
I have no arms nor legs.
My tongue is forked, I don't understand it.
I have no music playing, yet I bob my head around.
My skin, it's coarse and rough.
I don't want any of this.

Look at my tail,
without it, I'm doomed.
I'm all one color, gray, how dull.
I always look happy, though I'm deeply depressed.
My cries for help are mistaken as tricks.
I don't want any of this.

Look at me,
A human, two arms, two legs, one soul.
A girl.
My voice cannot sing,
my feet are uncoordinated,
my memory is a mess,
my clothing don't match, the colors all disoriented,
my music's obscure, weird.
I don't want any of this.
But they still make up me.

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