The walls you stand behind are wearing thin, and hopeless, I
beg for you to let me inside. I have been trying so hard to
keep in time with the words that flow from your mouth; the
things you cry behind these walls when you think I cannot hear.
sometimes I hear you cry about me, and that is when I think
that maybe you are both blind and deaf to the fact that I have
already destroyed so many things for you. What more can I do? I
am sorry that standing outside of your walls is exhausting;
that being vulnerable and open is exhausting. Waiting for you,
I think I'll have to build some walls of my own.
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