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Secrets in the Wall
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Mental Illnesses It was late.
I watched the walls
like they had secrets.
Like maybe if I stared at it long enough,
they would show themselves to me.
The hallways,
they appeared to be getting darker.
Like maybe everyone in the house had went to sleep,
or my eyelids were drifting me to sleep.
But they were wide open.
Wide enough
because I was trying to make him appear.
I thought that these secrets were his secrets.
The reasons he said those things to me.
That maybe if I saw him,
he would explain why he left.
So these walls,
which were not in any correlation with him,
maybe they could find him for me.
Through the door,
of which I keep shut
to keep the shadows in the dark out,
came his shadow.
It creeped in, into my bedroom
and stood before me.
I did not know if it was him
because there was no expression.
His face a canvas
on which I could have painted a different story,
but all I saw were the secrets,
the little lies,
the major abuse.
The pain he left me in
all because he was in pain himself.
He said he know how to love,
but he must not of known what that meant.
Which must of been his secret.
The walls are hiding the fact
that maybe he never loved me.
Maybe if I stare at this wall long enough
it will crush me
becuase my sorry excuse of a father,
he crushed me.
Taught me I can't trust,
I can't love anyone.
Because there are too many secrets
hidden in their walls.
