Mind Waves of Power

If walls could talk, then you'd be in a lot of trouble. The whole lot of you.

But especially you.

I am your wall, and I've been holding your secrets. Closets don't hold skeletons like I do. I've got all the brittle bone dust of each and everyone of your deceits, your selfish exploits; all the schemes right from the control center of your life. Every last one of them.

I speak your language. Every word that slides off your tongue falls onto me; in layers and layers of soundwaves. The language of humanity written in my paint, decipherable only by your mind. And mine.

When you close your eyes at night, and you see those weird glyphs, floating in the air...did you realize it's me? My cries of despair in red-hot, moving ink. That's what your energy feels like when it hits my surface. It travels through my pores until finally, they reverb back onto you. Through those symbols, I will remind you of everything you've done.

A circle with a vertical line down the middle. This was the moment you separated yourself from humanity. I could feel it hit me, as vibrant as the screen of the computer which you pressed your gaze upon. The symbol pulsed at me for every time you judged someone from afar, through digital lines, putting each of your thoughts through a dirty bath, deciding you are somehow more pure, more clean.

A series of waves, for when you decided to bend the limits. I remember those you brought into this room, and I felt that they succumbed to you. I felt the power you gained in overthrowing them, in series of stacking triangles, building your empire onto the frailty of others. Lovers lost their dignity, as did many friends, family, potential soulmates.

The mouths of last screams. For every person you killed without mercy, their screams echoed past your indifferent mind into the fabric of my being.

In between moments, you sat and stared at me. The troubles of your mind shooting into me like laser beams. I wish I knew the shapes of flowers, wondrous creatures, of magnificent science. But you drill into me images of hate, fear, and doom. You do it with such drive, never unsure of yourself. You would leave for the day and find more fuel for the fire inside you, then return to me and ponder the fury of your world some more.

One day, I stared back. Do you remember that day? I recall your gaze coming loose from the drifting line of your thoughts, and fixating onto mine. My grooves and ridges were pulling you in. My changing landscape casted shadows which lengthened and darkened. I remember your face twisting, as you brought your nose right up to mine, while your brain puzzled whether this wall had changed over time, or if it had always looked that way.

I was changing, as I pulsed your vibrations into the molecules of my structure. I chiseled away new imprints, patterned exactly as the symbols that formed from your energy pounding into me. I know that you saw your symbols on my surface, the very same ones you saw at night when you closed your eyes. As if you were reading braille, your fingers traced over my map of your twisted mind.

Little did you know yours would be the first of many, in touching the only legacy you'd ever leave behind. I felt your insatiable desire to destroy and to rule and it made me hungry, and all I wanted to eat was you.

Remember the day that you and I became one? Your fingers suctioned onto me, staring into nothingness like a docile lizard. I emptied your mind of everything it had and your physical body left little to be consumed. Before anybody knew you were gone, I had eaten you up. I felt the roundness of your head and shoulders, the smoothness of your skin. I felt the sharpness of your eyes, tongue, and nose, like a face of daggers. Onto my surface, I spat you back out in the form of a monster, yet humans could only see it as themselves.

First the police came, and looked for your body. If they looked a little closer, they might have seen us.

Then your family came, and moved out all of your belongings.

New people came to live here, and I stood for years and years.

Your world's future met the despair which your heart so fully granted. Through apocalypse, buildings fell around us, and I sunk into the scorched soil.

Over time, you and I became more and more merged together, and the dwellings of your being were carved into mine with great definition and clarity.

Something then found us... a long, long time after, underneath the layers of earth. They studied fractions of my face, finding in it the shape of a man with a face of daggers. Piecing me together, they found the shape of your body encircled by strange symbols, simple in shape, but difficult to understand. They found out I was thousands of years old and was a remnant of the period of the damned. The peace of their lives did not know such malice, nor did they understand what could bring the world to such demise, until they deciphered your symbols.

If walls could talk, they would write history.