Everyday I put on my armour and get out of bed. It's what keeps me from being nothing more than a blob of mush on the floor composed of contradictions that can hardly co-exist. My raw self that I don't understand anymore than the next guy.
This armour of mine, it isn't perfect but I've tried to form it into the person I want to be. Sometimes it cracks and my raw self comes pooling out. Exposing me to the world for who I really am. Raw emotion is hardly ever pretty. Self preservation hardly stops to consider others feelings. Insecurity feeds off of others strengths to the ultimate damage of its own host, as does jealousy. A crack in the helmet and I'm over come by the drone of constant argument between the angel and devil which have perched on my shoulders, in an infinite debate. Leading me in circles. Like most debates, there is no conclusion or agreement.
The saint with all the patience surely wasn't named Misty. I'm not sure if my rope is shortened by the outside world or what lives inside my head. I am more often than not, my own worst enemy.
All I can do is shove on my armour, hope it doesn't crack, lead with my heart and try to keep it from slipping out from under my sleeve.