did you know that walls can speak? it's true. they do. and this beautiful pastel yellow one is quite the charmer.
when we first met he spoke of frosty winter mornings and warm blankets piled on sofas
last month he was raving about old dusty books and old men who never seem to die
last week the sun creeped in through the grails and caressed his face. walls change colour. he turned orange.
yesterday he spoke of a boy. an angry boy. a very angry boy. a boy who would listen and not speak a word and just be.
he spoke of a boy who wanted the sun to caress his face and feel frostbite seeping into his skin
he spoke of a boy who closed his eyes and curled his fists and screamed through them
he spoke of a boy who's blood stained his soul and who's smile was like cracked glass
the wall doesn't speak anymore
there's a crack running down his center and it's starts in the shape of a fist
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