robin’s-egg blue walls
contain two empty shells—
one lamp on, one lamp off
four eyes open
both minds closed

I have forgotten what skin feels like.
I have touched it many times but sometimes it feels like silk and other times it has felt like concrete.
It has felt like velvet but also felt like sandpaper.
I’ve avoided the texture of those around me for so long it has become an unfamiliar touch.
I have grown sick at the thought of melting into someone else’s epidermis.
The fact that just giving someone a delicate touch means I am vulnerable worries me that I have not built walls
I have built an entire castle
A fortress around me that no one can penetrate.
I sit on a throne that no one else is allowed to even look at
You can’t have what I’ve experienced
You can’t be a part of what I have built.
This is because of you. I have worked so hard to keep you out
I sit in the aftermath of your disappointment and remember the times you shattered me and I keep building.
And building.
And building.
Until finally I’ve built something sturdy enough to never be broken down again. Not even by you.

Can we talk about the walls
That I built to keep you out
They're crumbling
And they're fading
They can't keep the monsters out
The voices all remind me
That I'm nothing
But a home
For them and all the others
To never leave me alone
The flowers that I planted
Have all but wilted away
My walls are all gone
And I have nothing left to say

They stand high and firm.
Unwavering strength to listen to it all.
All the love and it’s absence
were encountered by these dutiful walls.
Countless beings came by,
some to conserve and some to destroy.
They still didn’t crumble down.
For they had stories to tell.
Memories and existences
that fared the test of time.
Frozen in these walls of being,
are the lives of numerous beings.
Recording their lives
in a concealed script.
Old houses appear desolate.
They are not homes anymore.
Old forts have this despair.
That they wish to share,
But can’t.
It’s their irony.
They’re strong but sad.
Have words to say but can’t.

Try telling your secrets
to Walls
and you will hear them
Whispering...

Imagine with me if you will
Not being able to imagine at all.
Trying but unable to tell
Why it is you feel so small.
It's hard to feel anything anymore
Voices shouting censorship and paranoia tumble over the walls of their abode and still like a broken record, refuse to admit their own shortcomings.
To never think of death, of guilt, of pain
They run ashamed and break the bridges that have crossed the empty pit, their concrete blown away, and why?
The roads of healthy living are martyred
The smiles of love are blotted out for the dark recesses privy to the wretches in their holes hiding from insight.
Imagine with me if you will, but Don't pretend it's not actually happening.

"Mr. Biden, tear down this wall," pled Juan.