i push against walls. and mostly, i expect them to move quite willingly. i expect them to suddenly see the error of standing fixed and solid in place. to see the beauty of fluidly following water or breeze or me.
i scream at walls. i wail and bellow and beseech. it seems i do this at a decibel they don't hear though, because not one wall has yet to answer me. if those walls would just hear me, hear the loving song i've composed for them, well, they'd no longer be a wall.
i comfort walls. i place satin sheets over them, stroke their rough surface and smooth over the year-worn dents and abrasions. i speak as soft and warm as autumn sunrise, consoling them to strength. and all i feel is the chill of stone against me, and the wet of my tears returned to me by the unyielding surface.
i write letters to walls. i hide the notes in crannies that i'm sure they'll notice. i jest, i play, i swell with pride at having found them and i coo at the chance of loving them. i tuck the note quietly and run away, like a child on may day leaving treats for a friend. and i'm always disheartened when i return, to find the note where i've left it, unopened, unread or wet and smeared by falling rain, my words lost and draining.
i love the walls for how they are, strong and protective, loyal and defining. they allow me the boost to see from new vantages. they hold back the terror of storms. they silently adjust the landscape and break the monotony of green and green and green and green.
for all the reasons i love the walls, i hate them just the same. and i surround myself with them, building unhearing, unmoving, unloving fortresses around me. i pray one day i see the beauty of their way, or they the beauty of mine. walls and girls just don't play the same way. i think it's lonely for both.
1 comment:
I think not everyone (dare I assume we speak of people in this post?) is a wall.
Another question might be: Why do you choose the walls over others?
Do you delight in the challenge? Do you swim in the pain? Do you enjoy the feeling, even if it is painful, because otherwise you are numb - AND because you are not actually capable of enjoying the OTHER possible outcome of wooing non-walls?
You are beautiful. (Did you wince when I said that?) You deserve to be loved. (Does it feel wrong to hear that? Instead of gently melting into your soul, it rests heavily upon you like a blanket you can't shrug off.)
Perhaps you are attracted to walls for the same reason you hate them.
Perhaps THAT needs to change.
Not the Walls.
Have you, or I, ever met a Wall we could change? I have a headache. I bet you do too. After a while, you have to wonder why you are still beating your head against the walls.
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