Piece by Piece (Check out poem...may have a sensitive topic to some).

My heart, made of fragile glass, My mind, made of rough stone, My hair, made of tiny string, My skin, made of tranquil soft Lithium.

My heart, once broken, twice shattered, and continuously reconstructed. Once fallen, then glued. Thrice healed, then torn. Never cradled. Nor touched.

My mind, once perplexed, then glazed, but continues to be constantly distracted. Once fused, but melted. Twice sorrowed, but revived. Thrice astute, but outwitted. Never matched. Nor blubbered.

My hair, once yanked, then chopped, but continuously grows. Twice dyed, but never natural Once long, but never longer, Thrice messy, but never neater, Hardly comparable. Nor never recognized.

And my skin. The rough soft smooth skin of mine Easy to stab. Easy to cut. But hardly touchable. Tough and rough, with the fear of touch. May the germs be witness of never feeling another's skin, But may they see the drizzle of blood, as they are carried down the drain of a shower.

@TalCherie