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The Why Of Me and Myself
the only why i put my walls up
is so you may wrench them down
and if you can't see that, how
can you see through the scars languidly embracing my skin,
bitter caution round my laughter,
miles of empty round my body,
cold fortress of my heart,
cliffs around the ocean my soul belongs of,
fear that guards my love?
but i hope you will be the one to
touch the first layer, the very last layer of
tender new skin underneath all
my careful hardened understanding.
my walls are strong
and though i'd like to think myself
a sleeping Beauty
whose wide-eyed castle your strength
could easily vanquish(if you really tried)i know
that my walls
did not spring up overnight;
i and you must chip away at the red bricks
until they fall, defeated
carrying a piece of me with them.
should i wonder if you are brave enough
to climb my mountain, or maybe
that i should be
folding up my leftover self and
tucking her into the deep places-
or is it your intention to
reach even the last day before
i say
i love you
or
goodbye?
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