Only Romance

Friendship is not enough;

even those I consider closest

are blind to my depths.

On their own, my walls don’t break down

to reveal the coarse gravel of my wounds.

My features are not eroding naturally:

unseen, within the confines of my mind

is a demolition man with a sledge hammer

and a temper. 

He swings and rubble flies

from cracks in my foundations. 

My friends try to stop him

but they are knocked aside, unsuccessful.

For they do not understand the demolition man

and what makes him tick.

He lurks within the villagers in anonymity,

only to surface when least expected.

Mass hysteria:

he emerges in full rage, heaving his hammer

inside the stone boundaries.

The demolition man is an outcast,

not recognized by the common folk. 

He will only expose himself 

to the kindhearted woman that steals his heart. 

Only then can he be understood. 

Only then can I be repaired from the inside out.