Living failure

They are watching me;
as I strip off my clothes, cover my imperfect body, and step into the shower
as I get out and slip on the slick, wet tile
as I curse out the half-witted driver beside me who must have failed Drivers Ed
as I cry over my awkward body and long to look like a carbon-copy of a natural beauty
as I pretend to help a child find their mom, but mislead them…intentionally
as I cannot recall my own phone number and look on the bottom of my foot where I carved it long ago
as I make too many mistakes and they fail me, thinking I must not be human