The Surface

The surface
It can be a very lonely place
Sometimes it can be false
Lacking depth
But sometimes a safe place
Feelings can barely scrape it
Feelings can delve beneath it
It can be smooth
Or cratered with loss
It can be pure with innocence or naiveté
Or impure with experience
It can be dry and dead on top
But can be scraped to give new life
Inevitably, it will get old
Over time it will wear thin
It will damage
This surface
This protection
It will soon wither
And leave you defenseless