The Shell

In the beginning, I peaked out of the shell. Not too far - just... enough.

I found that I was vulnerable. I got hurt, way more than I could bear - scorned by my peers, treated as a therapeutic case by the doctors.

So I started using the shell for strength. Stronger, harder, tougher. I made it as thick and impenetrable as possible.

Over time, it became a prison. One that I could no longer break out of - either the walls were too strong, or I was too weak.

Now I slowly, gradually, remove the shell. I solve it, dissolve it from the inside. I let the acid of self-love and bliss eat away at it.

I work at becoming vulnerable again. Vulnerable and strong.

The irony of it all is, of course, that we have all read and heard those very lines, time and again, in various forms, by any number of authors; so have I; and have laughed it off as naive or moralistic or just plain stupid.

But it's not.