Forty-Something Years in Ninaland

Walls Between Walls


Photo by Andrew Rice on Unsplash

Life is a singular dance.

It is one, you get only one,

or so they say.

You, I know you

you are the one who faces the wall.

The wall I built with my own fears.

The wall I can’t get past

no matter how high my ladder.

You, you have seen its bricks

falling down like apples on a tree.

I wish I was as real, as pure as fruit.

If only I could feed the hungry.

I hear the chimes outside your window.

And birds. I see the birds.

We are nothing if not part of nature.

I am, I am standing between me and me.

Where are you? Do you even know?

What’s life got but life to offer?

How much will you risk to get to me?

We are like the untamed, unearthed sky.

We are nowhere, between the air in our head

and the air we breathe, we are suffocating.

Which one of us will die first, do you ever wonder?

If I face the music instead of the wall

will you make sure I don’t fall?


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