Behind the Walls of Stone

Steve, my words are broken, convoluted, muddy, thick and bereft of reality. I struggle to take meaning to words, but they twist and break with emotion. My speech betrays my heart, my soul, my truth.

The poison spews and contaminates all we have, not from malice, but from failure. My shortcomings, emotion, ignorance, weakness, pain, and fear ruin all that's spoken and pelt you with stones of failure; my failure.

My weakness comes between heart, soul and my tongue, polluting my intent with hostility.

The failure, my own.

My pain screams within me, unheard, angry only at my own shortcoming in being inarticulate and true. The child inside weeps and relents, giving up all hope of being understood.

I shall go back now to building the walls I trusted to tear down. There is no hope any longer. I did my best to be honest and intimate. I have failed. Tonight I will begin putting back in place the blocks I had so bravely torn away. Tonight I realize I'm not fit for intimacy.

The walls that once protected me became a prison. Now I realize I'm doomed to spend eternity behind them knowing I'm not worthy or fit to be free from them. My inability to communicate only causes harm to others. To you. The man I love. To love is not to harm, but to care. All I share is pain. Because I love you I will lock myself away to protect you. I'm not capable of sharing, poisoned as I am.

Convicted, ruined, worthless, society is safer with me where I belong. Behind the walls of stone. Steve, it's because I love you and truly want to protect you that I must lock myself away, for I realize now I will never be able to be intimate with you without constantly harming you. My ignorance, lack of skills, lack of experience, and my inability will never overcome my desire to show you my love and share my heart. I'm too broken. I'm unworthy. I'm poison for you, for everyone.

My only ability is to harm. Like a convicted murderer, I am not fit. Prison is where I belong.