I Mend My Walls

Alone and safe,
I mend my walls.
Peaceful isolation, the novacane for a heavy heart.
Yet in my soothing darkness, I weep.
The cold, rough stone offers no comfort,
And the anesthesia will not mend the cracks.

In my moment of weakness,
I collapse among the neglected ruins.
Dark, cold, damp, naked.

Enter cunning light,
Enveloping me like a warm blanket,
Brushing the ruins away
With one swift sweep of a strong hand.
I kiss that hand in reverence.
It will lash out at me in pain.
In pain from a kiss made in love,
The light retreats.

Alone again, to mend my walls.