The fact is that most people is made up, or wrapped, with layers of lies. I want to be good, so I assume that maybe it starts with a little lie, a little “masquerade” so to speak. But then another one attaches to the first, like little insects accumulating on flypaper.
Another and another, and slowly the layer of lies becomes the dress, it becomes the day to day dress, their new normal, so to speak.
To these layers new lies are sometimes attached, to embellish the dress, to adjust it, and on and on. Tragic how this is the standard for most people, tragic how this may be the case for the ones around us.
Sometimes something happens revealing a flash of the covered skin, the true one, the fragile one and now even more fragile, delicate, so delicate that these people feel the need to hush to cover them, immediately.
A new layer, sinking the true self even deeper inside.
There are days when there is a little ripple, from inside, the desire to rebel, to scratch those fake (sometimes even beautiful) crusts, off the skin, to come out. For a moment there is the desire to rise, to show the pale skin, the scars, the flaws and beauty but then, it fades. It fades maybe because after all these people are attached to this or that, they fear losing something from the world that knows them fro what they are not. They fear they will be not only judged, but even not accepted, hated maybe.
So they give up. For a day, two, five, their soul hide and curl inside the built dress. A burning ember hidden in a royal shell.
After this period it all comes back to natural
It all comes back to putting new layers, inventing new glowing scales for their dress, for their armor.
In doing this, succumbing even more into feeling weak. Devoured by the paradox of the whole thing, since they started it all for one reason, feeling stornger.

Kitty