The Other Side of the Wall

They say the walls have ears, isn’t that the truth, cuz I can hear her tears from the other side of this room, from the other side of this wall, yea I can hear it all, see I know how her loneliness her soul consumes, how she must feel so ugly on the inside but has to wear a costume, because every night he walks into that room, eats her food, uses her, and leaves the same way he came in through. It’s a clear routine, but I don’t question why she doesn’t leave, it’s clear that she depends on this man, at least financially. And I hear her leave for work every day, but I imagine she doesn’t make enough for her bills to get paid, in fact I hear her argue with this man over money every day, over that or the fact that, for the night he never stays. She tells him she loves him, as she begs for him to remain, I curse these walls for letting me witness so much pain, but yet I listen with intent every single day, wondering if I’ll ever knock on her door and say, “You don’t need this guy, just walk away”. But then the doubts set in and I’m frozen in my cowardly ways, or maybe I’m afraid, that she’ll reject my help and stay the same. But then I hear her pray, as she cries to God desperately saying “I can’t do this anymore, Why do I need to depend on him, why can’t I support myself, why do You delay? Or at least make him stay so that this emptiness will go away, I hate this situation, he walks into my home takes what he wants like a buffet and leaves, as my trust he betrays, over and over every day, I feel like a prostitute living this way, but I depend on his money, he’s the reason I can pay, for the roof over my head, for the food in my fridge, please just help me, I can’t keep living this way” And that’s it, she’s asking for help and I heard it, I’ve been wasting my time thinking I was unfit to help this woman, but this tug in my heart I can’t omit, I can’t ignore it, I know it’s God who’s tugging on it, I must admit it’s me he’s chosen. I still hear her crying on the other side of the wall, she’s asking God “will no one answer my call?” So I walk over, stand in front of her door and try to stall, but I knock, and I wait feeling so self-conscious and small, but still I wait, wondering what I’m going to say, maybe I shouldn’t have come at all, but just as I’m about to walk away, I hear footsteps approaching towards the hall, she opens the door, wipes the tears from her face and asks “can I help you” but I hesitate so I pray inside my head saying, “Lord You know it all” then I open my mouth to speak and say, “I’m here to answer your call…”