4 Walls

What I believe in love is none. It never exists, or when it does, it is four walls. Might I stop you before judging how I choose words to create the phrase. Imagine being in a box or a room with four sides of walls surrounding you. On one side, you can see your loved one doing their own thing. You cannot blame them, can you? Yet somehow, you needed them, or it is just your already corrupted thought trying to pull them back so your ass can throw thousands of tantrum styles towards them. Friends are on your back. There are many and you could tell which one your head remembered things they still couldn't resolve, like that one friend who had a tug-of-war-like relationship with their crush. You knew their crush didn't like them back and it was obvious. Your friend, however, dared the universe and chased them no matter how tiring it can be for them. To you, pathetic. To them, an only hope. Your other friend might have the best day chatting with you about how similar their not-yet-a-boyfriend boy is to this and that. "Okay," as you may have reacted. But today... everything crashes down and you feel like nobody helped you, that inside your tiny dunce of a brain cell debunked you do not need one.

What are you waiting for? Is it perhaps the raging fire? Like, when it crumbles to the ground whilst hugged by the crawling pyre, you on your lowered head unaware of the fountain of misery is being built and streamed thousands of screams longed to be heard. By who? Anyone. Everyone. But when did that happen? Is it when the house is finally none but a falling kingdom of cards, laying peacefully atop the flowing water?

Now tell me: when a scythe stabbed right into your chest filled with determination and passion which scarred you for being chosen as the servant of the dawn, do you wish for it to pay back what the scythe has done to your body? Asking me would be a disaster as I thought "Is it even worth dreaming about it again?", much like with what I see inside the third wall. That new determination now chained me with doubts as I no longer had the same inferno to break the wall and reach them. So I let my head ring like an ancient bell, so loud it deafened my ears, blinded my eyes, zipped my lips shut, and corroded my chest more with useless yet reasonable hate... and of course, a wish saying I should have never been born at all for what I try to show 'n tell is nothing more than an invalid code to become humane. No worth as an object of attention as my own existence, according to my fucking head, is unsubstantial. Third wall sounds like a dungeon, is it not?

The fourth wall. Someone asked for help, yet I can’t help them just yet because of the state I am in. Too weak to even speak nor lift a finger nor kick each concrete. Weakened at its worst and best, and I do realize the impact of keeping everything to myself. Not needing any help sort to say, or... Is it when I realized I had gone too far with my wants of being understood but being misunderstood instead? Needless to say, no help could help me. Not even writing what I felt, or saying what I need to say. I don’t mind people leaving me. I was born to be left alone anyway. I am pretty much exhausted with people staying, and I do wish them to find a better shelter than they are with me.

(elements inspired by 4 Walls by f(x) and House of Cards by BTS)