The Weight of Armor

I push and I fight. I argue and I roll my eyes.
I quip and snap and all I really want is for someone to see through those defenses and hold me. 
Someone who isn't afraid or put off by the armor this world put on me. 
Someone who sees the tears behind the smile and catches them before they can fall.
I never meant to be this way. 
I never wanted walls and armor and humor sharp as swords. 
I never wanted to fight. 
But push a girl down so many times, and what do you expect her to do? 
I survived. 
And now the war is over but I'm trapped in these walls and this armor is too heavy and it feels like the strength that saved my life once is now pulling me down.