The walls you stand behind are wearing thin, and hopeless, I beg for you to let me inside. I have been trying so hard to keep in time with the words that flow from your mouth; the things you cry behind these walls when you think I cannot hear. sometimes I hear you cry about me, and that is when I think that maybe you are both blind and deaf to the fact that I have already destroyed so many things for you. What more can I do? I am sorry that standing outside of your walls is exhausting; that being vulnerable and open is exhausting. Waiting for you, I think I'll have to build some walls of my own.