The Armour

The battle shield, the thick shell, the brick walls- we've heard it all; 
The armour we wear to glue us tight when into pieces we might just fall. 
You've seen that face when you steal a glance at your closest friend,

When a random man carelessly tugs at a string she is yet to mend. 

You've watched her face calm, her fingers at ease. 

The sight they see, a picture of perfect peace. 

You've watched her draw curtains, the raging storm beneath to hide. 

You've watched her smile , while she pushed what she felt aside. 

You've done that yourself- when you said 'I'm fine' on that day of your tragic loss. 

As if your words were enough to veil that your life had just gone for a mighty toss. 

You shove them aside into that dirty corner yearning for light. 

For completion, you throw over it a thick blanket to cover that hideous sight. 

They do haunt you every night, you become aware then of your own breath, 

Yet you hold on like a flower that never blooms , but carries it's scent hidden, till it's very death. 

When somebody comes along, you wonder in silence, "Is this the one that you seek?"

Will they flinch- will they run- god forbid will they leave if you let them have a peek? 

You wait with bated breath, peel yourself down, layer by layer;

Praying , that inspite of the scars that disgust you, to stay in your life, this time they will dare.