All That I Need
It’s always there,
protecting us when we meet someone new,
or talk to a friend,
or when we do anything.
But it just isn’t us.
No one is on the outside who they are on the inside.
The face we put on is a lie,
beautifully crafted like a set of armor,
keeping the real us from them,
hiding our flaws with a glittering, cold exterior.
But it can’t grow with us.
Eventually we must choose to either discard it,
or accept that we will never become anything more.
Unfortunately,
I fear the day I emerge from my armor,
and blinded by my surroundings,
stumble into the abyss my armor kept me from.