Any time a poem starts and ends every single stanza with the words "I have," chances are that it's all about the speaker. It's a declaration. A manifesto. A standing-on-the-mountain-tops-and-shouting-really-loud sort of announcement. The fact that our speaker in "Her Kind" has to go to great (and even fantastic) metaphorical lengths to describe her identity suggests that perhaps the words to describe her sense of self within the real world haven't yet been invented.
This speaker is proud of who she is, because she devotes her time to describing her world rather than the world of others.
This speaker is acutely aware that she is an outcast.