Walls

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These walls of my mind heart.

Each brick laid and placed by you,

with your hands, with your care.

Then you left,

but the walls you built never did.

They still stand tall,

every side stained with memories of us,

a half-hearted love.

I mistook for something mutual.

But you thought it was enough for me.

But I think I deserve more than that,

More than the memories you left,

More than the love I gave you,

You never knew what I was worth , though you always told me I deserved more.

I deserve more than you and more than these walls that you built.

.

You left these walls hollow,

no color,

no shape,

no furniture,

no windows dressed in drapes.

At least I kept the place clean.

Swept grief into corners,

where no one would see it.

Pretended these rooms,

did not echo your name.

And for a moment,

I almost believed I survived you.

Until the walls began to split,

soft cracks at first,

then everything at once.

Dust falling like old promises,

paint peeling in sheets from the silence,

memories collapsing beside me

like they were never built to last.

You said I deserved more than this,

more than you,

but still left me inside

the ruins of your love.

.

And maybe bridges only burn

when somebody strikes the match,

but you handed me fire

every time you left

and came back warm.

I wish loving you

had exhausted me by now.

I wish my heart knew

how to grow tired.

But it still reaches for you,

with bruised hands,

gently,

stupidly,

sweetly.