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The Why Of Me and Myself
the only why i put my walls up
 is so you may wrench them down
 and if you can't see that, how
 can you see through the scars languidly embracing my skin,
 bitter caution round my laughter,
 miles of empty round my body,
 cold fortress of my heart,
 cliffs around the ocean my soul belongs of,
 fear that guards my love?
 but i hope you will be the one to
 touch the first layer, the very last layer of
 tender new skin underneath all
 my careful hardened understanding. 
 my walls are strong
 and though i'd like to think myself
 a sleeping Beauty
 whose wide-eyed castle your strength
 could easily vanquish(if you really tried)i know
 that my walls
 did not spring up overnight;
 i and you must chip away at the red bricks
 until they fall, defeated
 carrying a piece of me with them. 
 should i wonder if you are brave enough
 to climb my mountain, or maybe
 that i should be 
 folding up my leftover self and
 tucking her into the deep places-
 or is it your intention to
 reach even the last day before
 i say
 i love you
 or 
 goodbye?
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