Shell.

I suppose I’m not that great at telling my feelings;

...Coz I don't believe in them.

don't believe in going with what my body tells me

Because going with what my body tells me 

Is running from full control.

Running away from love,

Not towards.

Slowly embracing fear,

The comfort of my own shell...

Each time having to patch up 

the ever growing abrasion

Caused by stabbings that i’m not prepared for.

My back hurts now.

I'm beginning to feel it now.

As each new entity enters, 

I sink deeper into my feelings

As I sink deeper into my feelings,

I become more aware of this pressure.

Only this time, 

I feel the point.

The tip of the sword grazing my lower back

...This shell is useless.

I can't see anything.

Not even myself...

I need to see.

Even though this mirror Is supposed to show me exactly what I am,

It's too dark to see.

I gotta leave this shell.

Or I'll die in it.

pick up my little plastic knife

And attempt to venture in the unknown.

Go out as a self perceived naked turtle...

...To fight.

It's time to fight.

I want to see who's controlling the sword 

that brought me to the edge of life.

I want to know who's controlling the sword 

that made me feel all these feelings 

when all I really wanted was one thing.

What do I have to loose...?

If my life is as valuable as my shell,

Then what do I have to loose?

I crawl out… 

I see millions of shells.

I turn and mine is intact.

They're all intact....

I can breathe. 

I can see my reflection.

I can hear music.

But there is still a haunting silence

as I try and shout into another shell. 

As I try and find another turtle 

who has abandoned it's shell.

I'm still alone...

What good is freedom when you only get to experience it alone?

But at least my back stopped hurting...

...right?

Love.