Open Doors and Shuttered Windows

I am tired of living in my skin. For apologising for being myself. That said I am also irritated at myself for being so petty. I look at the shadows of old friendships, all that are left are these echoes that surprise me when I call out. How many roads will you walk down with clouded eyes and walled heart? I wanted to be the one to change that, how silly of me. Things are cast aside like dried out husks or shrunken skins that no longer fit, they itch. Pits are not easy to crawl out of.