If these walls could talk, they'd bare my soul. Leak my secrets. Spout my pain. They'd break the code of silence that I've grown so fond of and safe with. They'd tell of times when tears rained down and hearts were broken and stupidity ran rampant. They spill my sins, and un-wall my heart. I don't know if that's the scariest part, though. We're all broken and destroyed, so I'm not sure that's the biggest secret. The most dangerous would be the sharing of laughter, love, and happiness. Would be the moments that filled my cup, and lifted my soul. Would be answered prayers, and stayed fears. Would be movie nights, video chats, and phone calls. The times when hearts were open and vulnerability present. Because, who wants to put themselves on display? Ridicule of terrible things are much easier to deal with than destruction of a true heart. With the first you're tearing down my sins; the second, you're tearing me. If these walls could talk, they'd ruin everything. But not because I'm a terrible person. Because you might actually get to know *me*.
