Soft-shell

Standard

I can’t take it anymore.

Sorry I just —

I need to move along now,

grown used to my surroundings

weary of my limitations.

I hold myself back more than I am comfortable admitting,

unfortunately,

this is self-evident.

I wish I had the luxury

of keeping my armor on,

alas, I must slip into something

more suitable.

Crack me open,

any other time that would prove fatal

but I am in transition.

Out with the old, in with the new.

Weakness is now my strength,

I flow as the currents do.

If you’re too comfortable in your own skin,

it becomes your coffin,

I must cast it aside.

I can’t take it anymore,

maybe the growing pains

are worth the suffering.


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