I let down my walls for you-- a complete stranger with sad eyes, hunched figure, face down, back plastered in dimly lit corners.
We held hands as we toured through galleries, artificial sceneries, and slopes overlooking the city. I let you sit beside me in craters other people dug up just to see if you could fill in the spaces they left.
But you dug your own, left me wondering how you could claim love, promise me new planets and then leave just as they did.
I let down my walls for you-- even when I knew I'd risk drowning for people whose words slowly turned into lies once they decide to abandon ship.
I let down myself, in hopes that maybe you wouldn't. But you did, the worst part was all of you did.
Now my walls aren't the only ones left crumbling but my deteriorating furnished interiors barely holding up the framework of what the people I love keep tearing down.