The glass walls are broken,
Yet still I cannot leave.
Blood gushes from my chest,
And spills on to the floor,
Drizzling like fine honey.
I am the artist whose hands
Came together to make this.
I call it a train-wreck transparency;
Can you see it?
It is a masterpiece and a disaster.
Touching it will cut your fingers and
Scar your arms. You see, some of us
Are made of glass
And the hearts we hide are hungry
For someone else’s blood.
Sadia Ahmed, 2017