My Physical Façade

My soul is a diamond

Hidden in a sheath of bread

I'm no emerald

I'm no ruby

I shine white, not red

My heart is a glass

In the veins, you'll see

I am fragile pieces

I am sharp

Your reflection, I bleed

My brain is a computer

Deleting words, to forget

I am wires

I am memory

Your virus, I regret

My eyes are a factory

Of images to process

I am cones

I am rods

Your image, I suppress

My hands are my handicap

Despite that I'm mad

I reach

I plead for

That which I once had.

Best,
Anna Belle Lee