Layers

You are You. No one can define you or try to judge you and get the proper result. People that sand before you only break down the pieces of you that they see; that you give them. They can pick at it, tear at it, peel it apart, but the will never find the real you.

You" is the answer you give the wind or the conversations you have in the deep of the night.

Your heart is the treasure. The X on the map. The unprotected Jem of your thought and feelings. Once you hand it over, you've given it away. The theif will peel at you slowly; uncovering joy, hate, pain, and lve. You cringe...

The theif pulls off his hood and fils the room with immense light and wonderful glory. The theif is no robber at all, rather a tailor. He fixes up all the bruises and returns your broken layers. He hands it back and hugs you, comforts you, and fills your heart.