I used to melt so easily-
The touch of a hand,
the whisper of sweet nothings.
I had a constant yearning
for the warmth of another.

I was stuck in a hollow
gelatinous state,
Ready to mold myself into
any desired shape.

But now, my exterior
has become much harder,
layers of stone
to protect an interior that's softer.

Now requiring others
to do a lot more forging
and convincing myself
to do a lot less morphing.