Incomplete

I am not a whole person 
At least not to anyone but me
They all know me in part
Some of this
A little of that
But always incomplete
The walls of my city are strong
And sky high
And I’m not sure I could break them down if I tried
I can’t quite pinpoint when they were erected
But I can hardly remember a time when they weren’t protecting me
Protecting me?
That’s their purpose, right?
Keeping harm at bay?
I think that’s right
But does this mean that I’m harmful too?
I’m the one trapped inside, as everyone else seems to roam free
The walls keep me in just as much as they keep others out

Maybe it’s the others who need protecting

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