Underneath, not on the surface. That's where the truth of our existence lies, sometimes buried under years of punishment, suffocating, choking on the dirt we have carried with us so deep in our soul where no one will ever find it. Sometimes it scratches, clawing at the thin veneer of the respectable face we present to the world, hoping to pierce, to pop the bloated façade of all we refuse to acknowledge we have done.
Underneath the skin lies the dirt we have on ourselves. We hide it from the investigations of others while knowing that if we were to slice the surface and let the dirt run free, we would be liberated from this human prison in which we are securely kept...
Underneath.
