I simply cannot summarize myself.

My eyes are veiled in overcast colors.
My ears are fragile in their attempts to nullify the screaming.
My face is cold from the strikes it has bore.
My fingers are feeble from clutching the pen and stroking the keys.
My spine is crooked from the hours I've spent bent over my knees,
clutching them in despair.
My limbs are bruised due to carelessness.
My mind is weary, for it never rests.
I was once told that my body is a temple.
Whoever conjured such a thought must not know me very well.