the internal wall

i used to have a very vulnerable wall. a very, very vulnerable one - one small punch and it breaks, it falls apart. then i realised that i ought to grow stronger, and build the wall a little bit higher, as high as possible. no words can break them until they reach a certain limit of my breaking point that i made up myself.

and i realised i became happier.

but it didn't last long. armies, fully armed with words, keep coming, leveling up their weapons every now and then. because they see my wall never breaks. not like they're trying to break it (i suppose) but they keep on knocking, attacking with bombards of probably shots of cannon—packed with hurtful words. why you ask?

because they see me taking no piss. when in fact i am pissed. very deeply, indeed.

and i thought if i build my wall stronger, i'd be stronger inside too.
but too bad. the army of my clenching heart is still of the same potentials, no matter how hard-built the wall is. too bad. things get worse. they probably think that i have no breaking point, i have no walls to break or that they never know that everyone, including them themselves, has an internal wall that shields their hearts and cocoons the almost-breaks-into-pieces piece of blood pumper with not-so comforting swathe of words : "it's okay. you're strong. take it positively and just play along with it."

and i tend to not show any signs of hurt because i know,




in the end nobody will care. nobody even does.