
A fortress built around your heart—
stone laid from old betrayals,
walls raised higher with every almost-love
that taught you not to lean too hard.
You call it strength.
I see how lonely it gets up there,
guarding something that only ever wanted
to be held.
I don’t want to tear it down.
I know those walls saved you once.
I’d rather sit outside them,
patient, unarmed,
hoping one day you’ll open a gate
and realize not everyone
came to lay siege.