i found the secret to life
scrawled upon a crumbling brick wall
all those years ago
in a down-town pub house bathroom stall
and i wish i'd never read it

some things just can't be erased
not with paint thinner
and not with the sands of time

no
some things stain
some wounds scar forever
leaving cursive reminders of fights we've survived
and nights that parts of us died
to make room for something bigger

sometimes you have to paint the walls
in an attempt to silence the stories they whisper
recalling all they've seen

all that we've witnessed
and wished to forget

all the one-liners
and fist fights
and nights that should have never happened
those foggy moonlight memories
of evenings soaked in adrenaline highs
and cigarette smoke

sometimes you have to demolish the walls entirely
burn the structures of your nightmares and your fairy tales both
and spend more of your nights
with nothing
in between you
and the stars