an attempt at poetry

chapter 37: 'this side of my skin'

This side of my skin,

I didn't give it a name,

In truth, it is my kin,

And holder of much fame,

For it strolls hand in hand,

With my care and affection,

So it appears grand,

And strips me of perfection,

This side, I keep it in the shadows,

I shelter you from it,

It only emerges when everything slows,

And nobody's looking,

So you're blind to the punches it throws,

And leave me alone against it, enduring,

This side, you haven't seen,

For you'd undoubtedly leave,

Unsettled with this other face,

I'd give anything to erase,

Take care when you claim you relate,

For there's a 'me' you'll never meet,

That, like a burden, holds much weight,

But, nevertheless, makes me complete.