The Heart

I can no longer see my own face, my own minuscule environment,

Photos and the lens of the camera I must rely on--

Even the glistening of a mirror does not grant me what I want to see,

The shade of colors that distort me.

I can no longer see my own face, my own mountains of cheekbones,

With the click of a fingerprint, I am no longer me.

I do not want to see my own face,
My own hemisphere of pigment and blackheads--

When I open my chest, as if I am dissecting like a coroner

I must rely on a facade, and a filter, to even give you my heart.

The photo is no longer important.

My innermost organs, my being, is permeated.

I can no longer see my face, myself.

Thump, thump.