The past year and a half, I've spent
building walls.
My hands are calloused and rough
from all the weight
of the tools I've acquired
to keep intruders out.
These walls, they're taller
than the pedestals I made
for my past lovers.
I'm not sure how I feel about this.
What a princess I would make,
a sight for sore eyes, dirty and determined
to build her castle by herself.
"Nope, no damsel in distress am I! No sir!"
The entire kingdom can hear me yelling.
"Nope! I don't need a man! I'm happy on my own!"
I wonder if they know
that I'm lying half the time.
In my haste, I've forgotten to make windows.
There's no light, but I guess
I confess:
I miss the sun.
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