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I changed professions.
I did not attend any university,
but it was a gift given to me by nature.
I'm not sure when I realized this "talent"...
but I've fully embraced it.
I build walls.
An architect so to speak...
on an emotional level.
I take my pain and frustration...
and I add another brick.
Hiding from my feelings and emotions...
building higher and higher.
I call it protection,
but there's this downfall feeling to it all.
That lacking sense of contact.
That absence of intimacy.
Am I hurting myself instead?
When you no longer can tell the color of the sky...
have the walls been built too high?
When you no longer hear rambling voices,
and they are now just faint echoes,
am i too far to find?
I read all the instructions and studied every master plan,
these walls were built a strong structure.
The need to tear them down...
never crossed my mind.
My tools are minimal and dull.
All I have are bricks.
I am confined behind these walls that I've built.
I've fell victim to my own demise.
I haven't the faintest idea how to connect to a world I've tried so hard to push away,.
My screams reach no ears.
I build walls.
I've built a structure that will house a hardened heart and a shallow embrace.
I'm an architect.
I build some of the most beautiful cages.
