Walls
See I used to think that being alone was bad.
But then I met myself,
And I convinced myself that being alone was better.
That no one would want to talk to me.
So I spend all day in my room,
Even more making myself think that alone is good.
See I've convinced myself that my
Walls, would rather see me dead.
Than see me happy.
And I hate these walls.
These walls in myself that hold me back,
And tell me i'm not good enough.
I hate them but,
I created them.
I built them up so they could tear me down.
I built these walls to protect me from bad things.
How can they protect me when I am those bad things.
How much more do I have to take before these walls
Start to work.
These walls are a part of me.
And their falling.
They crack a little more with every glance toward my way.
They crumble down with the words that are flung,
The words that bounce around in my head.
These walls are withering away.
One day they'll take me with them.
For I am the walls and the walls are me.
How can you protect you from yourself?
You can't
Copyright © Olivia Struthers | Year Posted 2014
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