veins and muscle, without the skin.

are our bodies made to protect our souls… our minds… our hearts?
should we build them up like walls
to ward off the bad?
would that rid us
from all the good, too?

do we feel the need to destroy
this protective layer of physical existence
in order to destroy our inner selves?

or is it to break down that protection
so we can truly get to ourselves?

what happens when our bodies
are no longer a suit of armour,
but rather a bare skeleton
where our minds, hearts, and souls
are so easily accessible
that we have no means of protecting
ourselves?

does this make us broken?
an open casket?

which of these ways of being
is more vivacious?
how can we remain alive—
truly alive—
and protect ourselves
at the same time?

is it possible?
or must you be so incredibly vulnerable
in order to truly feel—
to truly be?

and when that vulnerability
results in distress…
heartbreak…
regret…
loss,
how do you grow your muscle,
your skin,
back again?

how do you keep the blood
flowing through your veins
if there’s nothing to protect them
from getting ripped from you?

even if you live your entire life
within yourself,
there will be one who tears down
every wall you’ve ever built.

and if you’re able
to build yourself up again,
your walls may never again collapse
because
you’ve stuck yourself in
an emotionless but painful existence.

so maybe we should
tear the skin away
and leave the muscle
for it serves us better
to accept pain all together
and move on,
not from it,
but with it,
allowing the pain
the struggle
to help you grow,
strong.

use it to find whatever it is
we are yearning for—
peace…
happiness…
understanding—
within ourselves
for that will build our muscle,

that will make us truly strong.

we will not have a layer of protection,
but it will put us in control,
able to be ourselves,
fight for ourselves.

we will love, and sometimes lose.

but love always
always
outweighs loss.