paint on the walls

Talking to these walls A wounded solider Dirt and tears streak my face I am Angry I am Hurt Bleeding on the inside a unusual flow Only allowing these walls to see my pain I would rather die Than to let you see My pain Someone once said they would strip the paint from my walls I laughed because the coating is so thick it's impossible Did they really expect to see the blood on my walls To smell the saltiness of my tears To see the blackened parts from the mental and physical abuse This isn't a pity party So saver your "poor her" I'm just a lost soul searching for a savior These walls understand me Once the dry wall is set into place The plaster is added And then the paint is applied I use the same color No one will ever see The many times I have repainted burying the hurt with ever stroke of my brush Staying consistent is the key Sometimes I miss a spot And theirs always a foolish person Thinking I wouldn't have a Plan B In between the chipped paint I draw pictures Only allowing them to see what I want them to see So go ahead take a Peek