Shambling Skeleton

 Some days I just want to strip.

I want to take a plastic knife

and carefully remove my skin. 

I want to hang it from a telephone wire 

like a beaten-up pair of shoes 

and watch as my neighbors shriek in horror. 

That would be a scene to behold. 

They could finally see the scars 

inflicted upon my flesh mold. 

With my shambling skeleton

shaking in the sunlight 

I wish to suffocate the smiles 

of these sanctimonious sinners. 

The happiness of some shouldn't

take priority over everyone else. 

Why should I be discarded, 

deemed a failure, 

and left on the misfit shelf?