Cracks in the Wall

You’re right, I have met my match.
And part of me is scared—
scared that I’m going to slip (again),
scared that I’m going to relax
enough to be shocked when the pain comes—
because the pain always comes,
despite my convictions.

I have walls
and they’ve served me well.
Too well.
They don’t tell you about loneliness
when you sign the bill of sale
on a fortress.
It’s self-made and self-perpetuated,
and I’m afraid there’s no going back.

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