Today, Love: An Anthology of Self

Void

You

fear being empty,

build up your walls

with green

and gold

and other people's dreams,

and you don't think twice

you don't think twice.

The way you think you feel,

that safety,

is all a façade,

thick as paper,

only as reliable as your self.

No one here

really knows what they're doing,

but you say

you're "just living".

I see through the walls of your

"fortress"

and I can tell you with certainty,

life is one thing not dwelling here.

My walls were built with stone,

I asked people for help

and they came to me

graciously.

It was up within the week.

I see you,

still paranoid, still building

paper upon paper

upon paper

upon paper

upon spines that are not your own,

by the hands of those

you tricked into thinking they were building

a city of platinum.