It’s only when I break, that my insides spill out and I see what I’m made of.
It’s only when I stop holding my breath, that I exhale the poison within.
It’s only when I fall that I find cracks in my foundation,
And only when I weep do I hear my true voice.
Our metaphoric armor protects but equally destroys all that we know and all that we are.
It weighs heavy on our souls and injures and crushes, rots and corrupts. Armor was not made to be worn at length, but when the battle evolves into a war, we feel we have no choice.
Only solid elements like rock are meant to withstand time and pressure so well.
Only liquids like water may flow with ease and find a new path.
Only I am neither so I cannot challenge time’s storms nor push forward to new life.
Only acceptance will help me now.
Acceptance that I am in a war, my armor is old, I am worn and rotting.
The battle hangs on too long, there are no reinforcements coming, no hero to lift me up. I must face this alone.
Only I can break my armor,
stop waiting for better days,
let my body fall,
Weep, and listen to the truth within.