The hurt in his soul glistened through his eyes. He hid it, but she saw through the smiling facade.
Wasn't he but just a fluffy ball of cotton, not even a shroud of paper to protect against the onslaught, she imagined?
Weeping silently at her son's future,
Trembling with fear at the tribulations the world would put him through,
All the evil machinations that were bound to shred to a million pieces his fragile sense of self
So, she held him close, tight as only a mother would.
Preparing him each day to build his shell, particle by particle, hurt by hurt;
A shell that would be his when she was gone - she would hurt him as no one ever could!
That, she thought would be the only way; to protect she must hurt, to love she must kill.
