The rest of the world is clothed, I alone am naked before a crowd. I run, and I hide — every spot I find is ripped from me — again, everyone’s eyes. Why am I so exposed? Why am I so bare? Why must I be so seen?

Why does the world hide? On me, I feel everyone’s eyes. Oh, my shame! I alone am a naturist in a world of Puritans. Their modesty makes me feel more naked than naked. A shadow cast over their eyes while I alone am thrust into the light. I can feel the judgement, I can feel the silent condemnation. But I can’t do it, I cannot hide! I’m stripped before the masses, but I think I’d suffer more standing among them, clothed, packed like sardines, side-by-side. 

I cannot hide, cannot even try. But here am I, thrust into the light. I stand tall, I stand high: I bare it all. I need not hide.