Brick Wall

An angry letter to a friend

I pounded on your chest as I screamed the answer in to your face that is only a personified brick wall. I pulled on my own hair trying to break down that wall that had no flaws in its construction. I was a little girl angry and fucked. Fucked to a life that I put together into misery and disappoint. I was that girl who’s body was solid and who’s mind was more dense than a solid. 
You try to rid yourself at 15 and I’ll sit in that audience. I’ll sit there in agony and look pathetic. Not moved by love but by frustration. They won’t know. They won’t know I was the only one. They won’t know how hard I tried. They won’t know who cared. Who helped and how much that person must hate themselves. How much that person could swear it’s their own fault how much that person will see themselves in that casket. That person is me and she can’t break the wall.