The Brick Wall

He told me

that my problems are a brick wall.

That my choices are few:

Stand there and stare at it for the rest of my life

or tear it down,

one red brick at a time,

and get past it.

And so I made myself

a constant construction zone,

always tearing down walls

and casting bricks behind me

till the landscape was littered

as far as the eye could see

with useless masonry

and I was no longer myself

but a girl with a harder edge

and calloused hands

and dirt mixed with tears

on a sunburned face.

And then he left me.

And despite all the roughness

I’d acquired, my heart was still soft

and still broken in the end.

So I grabbed up the pieces of my heart

and picked up discarded bricks

till my back ached

and, using my tears and

ground up pieces of my naivete,

I made mortar.

And carefully and expertly,

I built a wall around the pieces of my heart,

a tower of Babel, reaching far into the grey sky,

where no man could ever touch it again.


What I Should Say

I suppose these are things you should know.

I tend to keep important things to myself,

bottling them up till they pour out

at the wrong time and in the wrong way.

And I don’t want to do that this time.

So here it is.  This is what I should say:

I suppose I should tell you that I love you.

After all this time, I thought you would have guessed.

It would make things much easier for me if you had.

I mean, everyone knows it.

Everyone except you.

I should tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time now.

And, honestly, how could I not?

You’ve always been more kind to me than is necessary.

A person like me, who’s been mistreated before,

will always appreciate kind acts.

And you are always so kind.

I guess I should say thank you for making me laugh

and for making me smile when it doesn’t come easily.

You always know the right thing to say.

Or at least you’re not afraid to say the stupid thing

when it will make a stupid girl

grin and shake her head.

I think I should tell you that I notice you

and that I think sometimes you notice me in return.

You always find a way to find my eye and I’m grateful for it.

I’m grateful that you see me as I really am,

that you’re not fooled like everyone else.

I should probably tell you how happy I am to know you

and that you make my day better just by being there.

I know they said I mope when you’re not around.

I guess my thin disguise is thinner than I thought.

But sometimes you’re the only reason I wake up.

Maybe I should throw an apology in there.

You give me much more than I could ever give you.

I’m sorry I can’t be more than what I am.

It’s because of you that I want to be better.

 I feel so lucky just to know you.