Stony Secrets

If walls could talk, I’d scream so loud to all ears. My consciousness has seen what sentences can not express. Cement is my witness, I've been here through the years.

From brilliant minds to broken dreams, I was there through it, never taking a breath nor a yawn. Standing tall, battered and worn. If I could tell the stories of visions I've been born, another tale may begin.

I would tell the tale of a bubbling toddler whose scribbles felt like tickles, followed by the wet feel of a soapy sponge scrubbing all away.

I would tell the tale of a teen with constant personality shifts that caused my paint to peel with each new poster ripped away.

I would tell the tale of a ballerina who impaled me with nails, flexible feet and enthralling hand movement, her creative expression now a faded memory of what used to be.

I would tell the tale of a couple that moved in, with laughter and joy echoing through me as if I was part of their family.

I would tell the tale of a young adult finding her way through music, pouring her heart with lyrics only for my stony presence pleasure.

I would tell the tale of a kind soul abandoned by all others. Her cats and I became fast friends as I kept the itches away. She broke me open to hide treasures that are forever safe and secure.

I would tell the tale of a boy looking in the mirror, standing tall and proud like a king. I could see his beaming smile reflecting off my walls—one not seen since long ago when they first built me. He was my first, but his memory has lasted the longest. I would tell how I held his insecurities and fears like a baby to its mother. I stood with them through thick and thin, watching as he slowly rose above it all, conquering each challenge life threw at him.

My stony secrets would no longer be a mystery, if you came and listened to my tales as they are ready to unfold! Let my voice guide you through to spin into tapestry a thousand lives I have experienced since my birth.

I speak in whispers whenever I meet anyone curious enough to place their ears close to my unseen lips.

I speak of tears and goodbyes never heard beneath the plaster and tiles. I hope you can listen to the stories in your mind as you run your hands over me.

I have seen the world through many windows, heard conversations that would make you blush, heard secrets about a thousand people and held laughter in my walls for decades on end. I am the storyteller of this house, and I’m ready for you to listen.

I see all the comings and goings, from first dates to family dinners. I’ve heard arguments between siblings over who gets which bedroom, watched the sunset with a glass of wine in hand and seen tears shed for love gone wrong. All those moments are locked away within me, never to be spoken of again. The next time you’re standing in the doorway, remember - I see all, and I know all. I have seen countless stories pass through me, and yet I remain the same.

I am just a wall, yet, if you take the time to listen, my stories will echo through the wind and remain alive in your memory. If walls could talk, they'd share stories of many generations that have left their mark on my soul.

For if walls could talk, would you take the time to listen?