#NaPoWriMo Day 24: Concrete Jungle

Brick by brick
the sight gnaws my mind
They are building walls around me
But I never heard the builders,
not a sound to my ear nor an image to my eye.

I wait to see who would care enough to break them down.
No one to hold me when I sob,
the walls built with no door nor lock though someone out there has the key.
Mend my wall
They taunt me with their frilly linings.
Cold, hard concrete.

Built to keep others out or built to keep myself in?
Claustrophobic attacks.
Little hole in the wall fit for no light nor soul to come through
this facade.
Bricks, concrete and more walls,
Thoughts assailed lead to perpetual fear if these builders are in actual fact the hands owned by my soul. Mend my wall,
Aren't we all constructors?