I live in a shell like an armadillo
Skinny legs, armored exterior
People think I’m scared of the world
Too weak to live without the armor
But under this opaque shell
Is a creature with immense thoughts
A strong heart
A solid soul
So why hide?
I state “people don’t define me!”
Yet, they control when I speak, when I act
Or rather, when I don’t speak, when I don’t act.
Their judging eyes intensifies my downfalls
My stumbling voice, my unkempt appearance
I have little
I worry too much over how I’m perceived
Rather than acting on my thoughts, feelings, and desires so that they’ll be achieved.
Then this shell I thought was protecting me
Is actually hindering me
What’s the use of knowing who I am
But just me knows it
Everyone’s self, personality, identity
Are valuable to the world.
Sure, I might get hurt
But others are worth more than my safety
Time to come out now, not wait till I’m 80.