If This Wall Could Talk

Too high and sturdy, this wall.
It couldn't talk, I reckoned.
Not even feel or care or love.
Maybe I can tear it down with a hammer.
Or magically make it go away with my charm.
My smile might thin it.
And my voice can vibrate through.
Tried. But, from where I stand, I seem to be unnoticed. Not needed.
Maybe from where I stand, I should stand no more. Maybe…

Tears fall when no one is watching.
Not even the wall could see for it does not have eyes.
Or even if it does, it wouldn't feel or care or love.
Not even tears can melt it away.
If my task is to break this wall, I don't want it.
It's too thick for me; too tough for hands as soft as mine.
This isn't me giving up. 
This is me trying too hard when there's really nothing I can do.

Maybe I should step away and let it be.
Let nothing be nothing.
And let it wear out through time.
My heart tells me to walk away. A wall wouldn't notice anyway.
Maybe this wall only needed to be seen.
Maybe it does not have to be broken.
Maybe I shouldn't be broken by it.
Maybe my task is done.

Maybe if it could talk it would tell me to stop trying.
And that I am too weak for it.
And that I am not geared for the grind.
And that I am not the one who could break it.
That I am not the one.
Who could break it?
I tried. Too hard. 
Now, I am out. Gone.
Just like the wall, I couldn't feel or care or love.
It wouldn't let me. 
I no longer will.

I am no longer.