Lemon lime personality.
Sharp neon shards of Me-ness taste
like candy, burst into flame
if touched by a friend.
My lips are coated with white quartz,
Multi-hued lipstick slathered on.
My personality breaks off in shards
like hundreds of tons of rock I once saw
fall from a cliff into a river,
but hopefully not hitting that hard,
crushing with unimaginable weight,
stabbing nearest and dearest with the finer points
of meager personal philosophy.