A soul bound in flesh, foreign and feared,
Reaching out from the darkness for warmth.
Stitched, from the jagged pieces, bones and flesh,
A patchwork of strangers sewn into form.

So was I shaped,
A Mosaic of unbroken rejection.
From fragments of trust and tender words,
Made in the dark, out of ambition;
Perhaps to pry...
With each fragile part,
That if the broken still carry a heart?

They called him a monster; I wear no such label,
but I know the taste of estrangement.
My presence a shadow; a soft whisper swallowed by the air.
A face half-remembered, a voice forgotten.

So like him, I wonder :—
“Am I invisible, or am I something unworthy to see? ”
He wore his scars on the surface; I wear...