Walls that Break my Heart Before They Break my Hand
Why is it so hard,
like brick,
this wall of me
I keep
coming up against.
It's just myself
that I am fighting with,
Where's my white flag?
Hiding again.
All this turmoil
has been me.
And all this rage,
I have only myself
to blame.
Why does this brick
stay so resistant to crumbling?
Except for my heart, of course,
made of flesh,
is still stumbling.
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