A shell, an armor of flesh, a bulwark against the onslaught. The time had high, layer after layer, and nobody objected.
A distorted view of self, a reflection that it no longer looks as it is scary, as you can guess what it can become, again.
Misunderstanding before this fortress construction.
Against what, against whom? Against
itself of course.
All these fears engulfed, swallowed these gaps, this turbulence devoured.
"Do not linger ... not move your eyes ... there is nothing that can please you here. "The heart
gel, body caught in his own trap wrapping.
the time comes to stripping, to give new rights to reclaim its image, make peace with his shadow.
bogged these lines buried, purify their outline ... and petting a hope that one day a little more love, finally.
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