To Contain Multitudes

I am not defined by the callouses on my hands or the depth of my scars
For I contain multitudes.
I refuse to be dimmed or dampened
The growing mould will suffocate me from the inside out
Please let me breathe.
And how can your soul be valued, measured,
If not by the tone of your voice when you speak into the mirror?
Desperate for the deepest parts of yourself to level at the surface
But you are more than what you see with your eyes
More than your skin, your scars, your bitten nails and broken bones
You are the coal in the earth, the stars in the sky
The light in the dead of night
You contain multitudes.