The Wall

This thing is in my bones

like spunk and marrow.

It’s all I know and trust, like myself in the world.

Even when I’m naked it’s covering my skin at all times

 like invisible winter clothing

 and only powers down when I’m alone.

Even then, it’s charging with one eye open

like a German Shepherd sleeping at the foot of my bed,

waiting for someone to dare intrude.

Since I can’t walk around with a sword,

this shield is what gives me the illusion of safety

others enjoy while dreaming or being naïve.

I don’t have to push buttons or wait to be triggered,

it’s intuitive and works 24/7 like a protective reflex.

Picking up on the smallest amount of interest,

my face immediately broadcasts a message of indifference

and I can respond to every question with a closed answer,

no matter what you come up with.

I am a wall within a wall.

 

But something’s changed,

there’s a knocking at my fort

I could only ignore so long

before it stirred me from sleep and drove me to action.

I climb to the top and peek over the ledge to find a raven haired woman

beating her fists on my home as if she’s been locked out of her own.

Swinging at concrete as though it were wood

with her long arms and lean muscles,

I can’t help but smile and find myself amused.

So, I fold my arms and sit for a moment before calling out to her.

“Can I help you?”

She drops her arms and looks up at me with pale eyes and her mouth dropped.

“Let me in!” she yells.

“What?! No!” I scoff.

“I’m coming in, whether you like it or not.”

I look at the size of her and then the wall and just laugh.

She stomps away and says that she will be back,

but I don’t believe her.

 

A month or two passes,

before I am again disturbed, this time

 by a much louder knocking at my fort.

Sure enough, she had returned with a smile and a sledgehammer.

She was small in stature, but wild by nature

and she swung with all the force of her little body

until the wall shook.

I am no longer amused.

“Hey! Stop that!” I shout until my voice breaks.

But she just smiles wider then keeps going.

 

She gets tired and drops her weapon for awhile to sit.

 I let out a sigh of relief thinking that she’s quit.

But then she gets back up and pulls a chisel and mallet

from the back of her jeans.

She’s found a soft spot and means to take full advantage.

I jump down and try to reason with her through a fissure she’s made.

“Whoa, wait, can’t we talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about, I’m coming in.”

 

Now it’s coming apart faster than I can rebuild

and I’m beginning to question its use.

As the pieces fall around me I get to thinking,

She is a pretty thing….

and perhaps some company would not be the death of me

but simply another way of living.

 

I tell her to stand back as I kick out a section of brick,

and pull her into me.