Growing up, I subconsciously reflected the aggression of my father. Even though I have left behind the environments and the people, and am currently surrounded and protected by friends and lovers, scenes from my past are still easily dredged up by sensitive bits of stimulus. In exploring the balance of self-expression in love and family, I tell a coming of age story. I am on the inside, with spikes for self-protection. On the outside are layers of sugar-like sickly sweet residue, similar to secretions from clams stimulated by sand. Spikes protrude where the layers of sugar are thin. I am wrapped at the center of this, reaching out, feeling, touching, and shrugging off the residue. Suffocating slightly between layers of sweet honey, I reflect on how to heal my wounds.