there is peace, 
too much peace. 

these walls are saturated,
dripping, and sickly sweet with
the stillness of avoidance – 
nauseatingly daunting. 

there
is always movement underneath
a still surface, there is always
something
eager to erupt.

Krakatau // a.s.m

Berlin Wall

She’s closed herself off
behind her walls
because if she kicks them down, they’ll
fall for you
all

     over

          again;

and you will sit amid the rubble,
admiring the way
the sky greys just before the storm begins
in her heart.