If Walls Could Talk

Lately I have been on a laughing spree, with cynical grin coagulating my prominent cheekbones. A masked man! A heart stubbed by my own scalpel. Behind the sweet smiles, the stubborn laughter and the unbending personal belief that I am fine, the truth just hurts that I am actually losing, like towering limestone cliffs gnarled by his own height. There were people knocking at my door, but I was far away. They were inviting and yelling, but thought it’s just another fancy game. The door was closed and I have lost people that I have loved.

Between the walls, there’s a vulnerable heart and hearts that hurting. Many hasty words and arrogant spiel were said to attenuate pride and smugness. It may seem it pleases me to hurt people who just want to take chance to love and get loved. It may looks like it, but its not. If only walls could talk, it would say that I have long been yearning for company. That I treasure people that comes my way and every night in my sleep I am wishing that I could bring back the moments that I have unjustly said goodbye and not say it. If walls could talk, it would say that I want them more. That though I might have said I have never needed friends, I was lying then.

If walls have eyes, it would bear witness of how I cherished all the precious moments I have spent with friends. It would show proof of how big is the space in my heart that I have allotted to clutch endearing memories that has remained aloof for so long. It would tell you how I have wept many times for all the neglect and desertion I have made to people who once loved me and yet I didn’t pay any reciprocated importance. It would divulge to you how miserable I have become since I let you go away and how desperate I have evolved just to find someone else to talk to and heed my tales. If walls have eyes, surely it wouldn’t have let it opened to see more of my sorrows and guilt.

If walls have ears, it would have heard many of my prayers where I asked the Lord to give my match. It would have listened intently every time I tried to mock myself for all the prejudice and intolerance I have shown to people. It would have noticed how frequently I talked to myself practicing the way I should react when I am with friends. It would have heard my many wishes to grant me patience and humility to accept the way people are and their propensity to commit flaws. If walls have ears, it would have fallen deaf with my countless whimpers and lamentations.

If walls could feel, it would feel for me and for the people on the other side. It would feel guilty, too and blame itself for all the ambiguity and misunderstanding between the people in its opposite sides. If walls are alive, they would have broken themselves down and torn themselves to pieces. That’s probably what they think they should do if only to cast away the barrier that forbid the emancipated trade of human emotions. If walls are alive and are made to do right things by themselves , they are dead broken by now.

People do certain things, not necessarily because its righteous, but because that’s just the way they know how. The wall that protects is the same wall that drives people away. To stand behind it and know in fascination what’s probably inside its corridor, isn’t an overnight thing to do. If walls could talk, It would probably say you wait.