The Skin I Wear - By Aisaa Nuru Stanley

Written By: Aisaa Nuru Stanley

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Aisaa Nuru Stanley brings forth a compelling exploration of identity in "The Skin I Wear," a poignant poetry submission to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. In this work, Stanley delves into the layers of self-perception and the masks we wear, inviting readers to reflect on the multifaceted nature of personal identity. Through this poem, Stanley offers a glimpse into the complex interplay between one's inner voice and outer persona, making it a significant contribution to the realm of introspective poetry.

About the Work

"The Skin I Wear" captures a profound sense of introspection and existential questioning. With a narrative style that is both confessional and provocative, Aisaa Nuru Stanley challenges readers to consider the duality of self-image and the inherent struggle between external facades and internal truths. The poem is rich with vivid imagery and a rhythm that mirrors the tension between self-deception and the desire for authenticity, ultimately posing the universal question: "Who am I?"

The Skin I Wear

Original Submission by Aisaa Nuru Stanley

THE SKIN I WEAR.

By: Aisaa Stanley.

The person that I am

Is a hundred people and more.

To my parents

it’s what I tell myself they expect.

They never asked.

I am the firstborn,

the child they prayed for,

and because I love them,

I just want to give them the child they deserve.

To my friends,

I play the clown,

The fool.

The one who makes them laugh.

The one they think is smart.

They don’t see the part that dies inside.

So begs the question

Who am I?

Deep down I know.

I just hope

Someone else is fooled

By the outward skin I wear,

So In a moment of self-indulgent folly,

I can fool myself a little bit more.

No matter how I run,

hide,

or pretend,

I cannot run

From the Voice inside

the Voice that knows me truly.

It has me inventing more voices,

Just to continue the charade

that it is all within my power,

that the Voice I drown

is mine to control.

A lie.

A lie catching up.

I am not one for athletics,

not because my body is broken

my body is fine.

I am just lazy.

My legs don’t fail me; the couch just looks enticing.

And I am so damn tired of running.

I am a sinner.

I claim a demon lives inside me,

drowning me out.

Like I said, I am one for dramatics.

...

There is no demon.

I am just terrified

of looking in the mirror,

my own eyes staring back asking:

Is this all?

So once again,

I blame it on a demon.

I am not awarded

the same ignorance as the rest

to fool myself that there is no God.

There is One.

And I am afraid.

I look at the ignorant fools with envy and pity.

Envy,

because by believing the lie,

They escape the weight of reality.

Pity,

Because God does exist.

And when their mask cracks—even for a second—I see inside.

They cannot run. They cannot hide.

Deny it so they might, but it remains to be

A sinner knows a sinner.

The Voice is not evil.

It is my lifesaver.

The faint drowning that reminds me of salvation.

It kills me not in anger,

But in quiet, undisputed sorrow,

when my demons give in.

…

I’m sorry.

That’s not true.

It is when I give in to my demons.

The key is given, but the door is hidden.

My knuckles are white.

My palm is sweating.

Shaking.

I say I cannot find the door…

Is it because I cannot?

or because,

deep down,

I don’t want to?

Terrified

That if I open it,

there is nothing there?

I whisper it to the Voice.

The Voice nods.

Yes.

All of this

the drama.

the noise.

the stage.

Just so I wouldn’t have to face an empty room.

“Who am I?!”

What nonsense!

What an insult!

Sitting on your high horse,

Sneering down at me.

How dare you ask me that?

Answer it, why don’t you!

You call me a fool?

Fine.

I agree.

I judged myself long before you did.

I wrote the verdict. I sealed it.

So answer it, why don’t you?!

Hypocrite!

Wise fool!

Answer it, oh wise-one!

I dare you.

Who are you

when the lights go down

when the doors are shut?

Are you anything at all

or just like me, simply wearing skin?

Look at me!

Cold Thomas that I am,

doubting you,

demanding proof.

Show me!

To believe I need to see.

So tell me

Who are you?

…

What a joke.

You don’t know either,

do you?

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, celebrates literary creativity across poetry and creative writing categories. The competition serves as a global platform for writers to express their unique voices and share their artistic visions with a wide audience. Participants from around the world engage in this enriching literary event, contributing to a diverse tapestry of creative expression.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Aisaa Nuru Stanley for sharing "The Skin I Wear" with us as part of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Your exploration of identity and self-reflection resonates deeply, offering a moment of pause and introspection for readers everywhere. We look forward to seeing more of your thought-provoking work in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.