Sunday, January 12, 2014


Walls, four make a box or a rectangle. They can also make a room.
A safe place to stay. Or a prison filled with nightmares.

Walls can be movable. Wrapped around us reaching out
infinite or small. Protection from them.

Walls can be made of stone, glass, flesh.
Their purpose remains constant.

Keep out. No trespassing.
I don't want you here.
Go away. please....

Walls don't stay. They leave when you need them.
They come up when you don't. You can't control the
walls in your world.

In my world. Walls used to mean safety.
Walls meant loneliness. Walls meant days of sorrow.
Walls meant reliving the pain of childhood.
Walls meant never getting hurt again.
Walls meant never living again.

I've tested my walls. They are shaky.
If they fail, who will be there? Can I stand
without my walls? They have held me up
so, so long. I feel like a baby on new legs.
Where to look, who to trust, what to do?

Maybe just one wall down at a time.
I lean back against the other three.
You may come in. But wipe your feet.
This is my home. For now.
Me and my three shaky walls.

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