Walls That Listened

Written by Jacob Ibrag

After a tumultuous day, she couldn’t wait to run home

and unpack the insides of her mind. We’re measured by

the masks our faces carry our entire lives. Different skin

 for a different audience. Not in this apartment, these four

walls were the closest things to being her family. Walls that

listened to her vent about how she couldn’t remember what

her true identity was anymore. She stared at the masks

decorating the carpet by her bed, a mask for each soul that

tried to crack through her exterior. Every now and then,

she’d imagine the walls stretch their fingers around her

face and remind her of who she used to be, ‘you’ll always

know who you are as long as you come back to we.’

Photographer Unknown