The speaker looks back on a childhood spent hiding from being seen. Feeling weaker and less confident than people who could face down bullies, they learned to shrink, and the closet became the safest place to do it. The logic is sad but simple: if no one can see you, no one can judge you, and maybe you aren't really there at all.
The turn comes with the Frankenstein image. The speaker pictures themselves as a monster stitched together from fear, awkwardness, anxiety and confusion, made by "a child's shaking hand." That detail suggests the speaker is both creature and creator, a child who has built a frightening self out of their own insecurities. The closing lines are quiet and unsettling. The speaker holds their loathing and accepts it, but the acceptance feels more like surrender than peace. The mood is lonely, tender and heavy, and the final line leaves the speaker alone with the name they've taken on.