The Wall

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Please, when you get the chance, walk towards me, and look at me, straight on through as if to see to the other side. I dont even want you to look, I want you to stare so fucking hard that my color peels off, falling to the floor like broken glass. Dont worry about me, Im looking right back at you, with a steady eye, unblinking and fixed right on your pupil. I see how you walk around me, I know how you feel. You feel pretty empty and insane, but your friends say insane is okay. Their insane is funny, yours is...complicated. Your insane is looking in the mirror, and waiting for your reflection to tell you just how shitty your life really is, but it wont. Its just going to show you a blank face and you hate it, that face, your face, you cant stand looking at it. You would give anything to shatter it. How you dream of ripping it off, and using it to smother your family to death in their sleep. Skin pulled so tight, and you smile watching them, struggling to breathe. Use what you hate, to kill those you hate. It must sound beautiful to you, the phrase, I hear you singing about it in your sleep. But insane is okay, thats what your friends tell you, thats what they always tell you. But I know how you feel. I know that the pistol you hold everytime you look at me isnt always loaded. You have only one bullet, leaving five empty slots, its okay you make due with what you got. I also know that every morning before work you turn your back to me, and touch the back of your throat with that pistol. But you dont cry, you close your eyes, and breath deep with a strong grip and with your back turned you pull the trigger.........Only to find that you dodged another bullet. Today your revolver rotated to another empty slot. I witnessed it. I always witness it. Cause I am the wall, the unblinking wall.

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