Armored Exterior

Sat, 08/09/2014 - 16:33 -- drg2266

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?

Good question.

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. 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741