There is a wall between me,
and Everyone Else.
And I don't know how to climb
it.
And I'm not even sure
I want to. (I want to)
But the wall just stays there, and sometimes I poke
at it, or
peel it back a bit.
And other times I ram it
as hard as I can with
the strongest object I can find.
But,
without fail, I build it back up again, sometimes
with my eyes
closed.
I am goddamn sick of this wall, I tell you.
And I think
I need better
battering rams.
3 comments:
A good poem. A frustrating feeling.
(Can't decide if the awkward line breaks help or hurt it, but some of them do feel awkward.)
Thanks Stephanie. I'm pretty sure I wanted it to feel awkward, like starting and stopping and stumbling. Because that's the feeling of having that wall there. But if it's too weird, I might have to look at it again. Thanks for the input, though, and for stopping by!
I didn't know you wrote poetry.
This is really powerful...I could relate to it.
Sue
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