When the walls falter,
crumbling within
                  realities windows,
                                  shattered inwards
by the tears that are dwindling emotions.

There is no place to smuggle,
        to hide within hollow walls.
Because when everything falls
                               were all exposed.
And everything is but a shell revelled.

So many Junes and Julys
I spent watching the paint dry
on our brand new cream walls
instead of going to play football
with the other kids my age in the street.
I sat and wondered why
my shaking knees did not smile, why
my bony fingers could not disguise
their quirkiness under pretty blue eyes
like all the other girls did.

And yet many paint coats later
I now realise that these walls have not changed
anything but their colour
in the many years my parents have lived here.
My parents, who spent so many years teaching me
to be loyal and kind,
not only to others
but to myself.

I like to think that if the walls could talk, they would say:

It does not matter what colour you decide to
dye your hair (or your walls),
because those who really love you
could not care less.
We have seen you grow into the person you are today;
stubborn, passionate and genuine,
but we know that you may still need to borrow
other people’s glasses to see it.
The road to self love is difficult
but know that you must love yourself
before loving anybody else.

You may not believe it yet
because you see others as the galaxies which
you could never be, but we promise that
you are the stars, and anyone who refuses
to look through a telescope to see that
does not deserve to see you shine.
There are lakes and rivers waiting for you
with open arms, and sunrises
which will put on their best colours
just for your eyes to see.

Your body is made of stardust,
you are stronger than the trees you have grown to love,
and though you may not be perfect
you are enough.

They pressed hands to the wall,
The wall that kept them in,
The wall that was so, so clear,
As a reminder of their sin.

Paradise, the outside seemed,
Green and full of promise,
They dreamt of its air,
Of its wind and cool kiss.

They took up rocks and stones,
They broke through the wall,
It shattered so easily,
And they walked so very tall.

But the outside was poison,
The air was smoky and dim,
Plants did not grow,
And their lungs were filled to the brim.

Many tried to stumble back,
To the air that was clean,
But the desolation and the fog,
Clouded what could be seen.

The people regretted,
Of what they had done,
They buried everything,
And nothing was won.