Bricks
My hands are tied with strings and ropes of countless failed relationships
Years of pressure and games of tug-of-war that I was the one to let go of
I have released so many ropes to let the other person fall away from me
Only to knot them around my limbs as a reminder that I could not keep those that don’t belong to me
That I am not allowed to let people get too close
And I was fine with that
I reinforced my own cages and restrictions
I built walls that only certain people were allowed to touch
And even fewer were allowed to climb over
And only one is allowed to keep a ladder
And those walls were high
It would take years to get over each one
And that’s the way I wanted it
I placed myself right in the center of them
Some called it lonely
I called it safe
I loved my walls
I painted pictures on them and etched poems into the bricks
There were times when I cursed them for not letting me speak
There were times when I regretted building them because they would scare people away
But that was fine, because I was protected
They worked --most of the time
She stood at the farthest wall, where everyone starts out
She was kind, she had common interests
I let her step over the first
Words continued to exchange and trade mouths in the forms of stories and inside jokes
Her feet kept moving and she kept climbing over the walls with more ease than anyone before
And I kept inviting her in
She insisted she understood me
She told me she had walls similar to mine
And she kept getting closer and closer
Farther and farther in
And I had no way of telling her to slow down
I was just happy that I had someone else that wanted to be near me
I was overjoyed that someone wasn’t scared off by my walls
And she kept getting closer
But then I noticed that she wasn’t climbing
She broke away at the bricks
Burst holes into my walls
And I tried desperately to fill them
But the moment I plugged up the openings she had made
She begged me to let her climb over
But I was getting nervous, I wouldn’t let her
So she pushed more -- hit harder
Asked me why I was hiding things from her
“I’m your friend, let me in!”
“I’m your friend, let me in!”
And I began to feel guilty for not letting her see me
So I hid away in the center and let her keep breaking them
Though she insisted that she was climbing over them
But I could hear the cracks
She kept getting closer, and closer
Until she started working her way though the last wall
The one I built tallest, the one I built strongest
As she kept stealing bits and pieces of the bricks
That I had painted pictures on and etched poems into
I swore to myself I would tell her to stop
But then the chipping went silent
“I can’t believe after all this work,
“You still won’t invite me in.”