I am mountains staggered and strong in a valley of skin. I am warm leather showing age and a life that was lived. I am wind blowing through golden fields of grain. I am the glimmer in ancient eyes, the earthy hue of my hazel windows. I am the masked amuser, sorry you hurt me, lost in my mind son of a bitch. I am not afraid anymore. I am the wooden barrel a skeleton thin man uses to ride over the waterfall. I am 6 miles high and full of fire. I am tears of molasses swaddled in robes of scar tissue. You can not hurt me. I am tongue of barbed wire with electricity coursing through my veins. I am dusty lungs, hollow heart, and fragile soul, but you can not break me. I am stronger than you thought. I am stronger than I believed. I am me.