Who Am I?

Who am I?
I am a mosaic
slathered with the dust and grime of her trauma,
Countless have gazed upon me,
Commenting on the beauty they believe lies beneath the pain,
Stating that they may help rid me of the filth

Soon after,
They find it to be a chore,
Saying that I'm depressed and traumatized,
Nothing more.

Who am I?
I am really a woman of depth. 
Beneath the ice of depression,
The grime of anxiety,
The dark cracks of trauma,
My mosaic is built from the discipline of my childhood,
the character of my athleticism,
Colored by the emotions of my experiences.

Who am I?
I am a caring soul,
Overflowing with stories to be told. 
A girl longing for love and a sense of permanence,
Unafraid to reminisce,
A woman tiptoeing through life
to avoid breaking her bones again,
But there's a Hybrid beneath my skin.

Yes. 
I spread the wisdom and forgiveness of angels
But,
I have the anger, envy, and selfishness of demons.

Who am I?
What sort of mosaic does this create?
Beneath the depressive ice?
Beneath the dirt and grime?
There is an amalgamation of colors that glimmer and simmer under the sunlight,
Showing a tender face,
Eyes like cocoa in a chilly winter night,
Welcoming, wandering, whimsical, even.

But under the pale moonlight,
Under the gaze of bloodstone eyes...
I am a cackling, shattered face,
A bloody hole in my chest where my heart was placed,
A gold eye full of angels to keep me awake,
A black one full of demons that loves those burning bloodstone eyes.

Author's Note

This one was written in response to a challenge posed in my writer's group chat. The challenge was to write a piece that starts with the phrase, "Who Am I?". I struggled at first but, I had inspiration soon after I heard about the challenge, thinking of a comparison to a mosaic. So, I scrapped my original, lengthier piece and wrote this instead. I think it's quite beautiful.