Bricks And Mortar
Like Sandra Bullock standing in front of a boy asking to be loved,
I'm staring at the wall trying to find a soft spot in a stony glove.
And yeah, sure, when I toss the ball it comes back, but see
I'm smart enough to know that doesn't mean the wall is playing catch with me.
I claim I'm not delusional, because I know the wall's not playing games.
Yet I stand here confessing that I'm still waiting for it to say my name.
Wall
Strong, tall
Standing, deflecting, unmoving
Always there for me.
Stability.
I come daily to throw the ball your way as if you will sprout arms.
I smile at those who look on as I gush about your many charms.
Some try to dissuade me from being so naïve and simple
In return, I point out the place where I always lean looks like a dimple.
Others display the pity smile; they pat my shoulder and move on.
Eventually though, they all tire of hearing the same old song.
My wall
The cornerstone
Of my world that's so bland.
It's always there for me; just stands.
My rock.
I've bounced the ball towards it so much, pieces start to fall.
I put the chips into my pocket; better rubble than nothing at all.
But the bits of wall just aren't enough material for me.
I can't mold the response I want from stone chards so raggedy.
I've stopped coming with the ball, tired of never getting real play;
Instead I bring my pillow and sleep; my night becomes my day.
Even
In the darkness I can feel you
Close to me so rigid.
So strong but I'm
Still cold.
Like Sandra Bullock standing in front of a boy asking to be loved,
I'm staring at the wall trying to find a soft spot in a stony glove.
And yeah, sure, when I toss the ball it comes back, but see
I'm smart enough to know that doesn't mean the wall is playing catch with me.
I claim I'm not delusional, because I know the wall's not playing games.
Yet I stand here confessing that I'm still waiting for it to say my name.
Wall
Strong, tall
Standing, deflecting, unmoving
Always there for me.
Stability.
I come daily to throw the ball your way as if you will sprout arms.
I smile at those who look on as I gush about your many charms.
Some try to dissuade me from being so naïve and simple
In return, I point out the place where I always lean looks like a dimple.
Others display the pity smile; they pat my shoulder and move on.
Eventually though, they all tire of hearing the same old song.
My wall
The cornerstone
Of my world that's so bland.
It's always there for me; just stands.
My rock.
I've bounced the ball towards it so much, pieces start to fall.
I put the chips into my pocket; better rubble than nothing at all.
But the bits of wall just aren't enough material for me.
I can't mold the response I want from stone chards so raggedy.
I've stopped coming with the ball, tired of never getting real play;
Instead I bring my pillow and sleep; my night becomes my day.
Even
In the darkness I can feel you
Close to me so rigid.
So strong but I'm
Still cold.
Copyright © 2011 Natasha Guy
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