There are three kinds of people.
People who build a brick fort,
People who build a wooden cabin,
And people who build a glass building.

People who build a brick fort.

Strong and stern from the outside.
You think it will be cold and there will be nothing inside.
You need a special key to unlock the door,
Or they have to let you in.

But once you step in, it feels like home.
There is warmth.
There is love.
You feel safe and secured from the dangers outside the fort.

People who build a wooden cabin.

Solid, yet looks comfortable and homey.
There are small windows to peek inside.
There are front doors and back doors.
Sometimes, they share their keys with you if they want to let you in.

Once you step in, it feels familiar.
Everything is as you would expect from a wooden cabin.
There are little surprises here and there, like an early Christmas morning,
But no plot twists, no threats.

People who build a glass building.

Beautiful, open, and observable from the outside.
With exquisite and enticing display.
They lure you in with their openness.
Their sliding doors constantly opens and closes, easily giving you access in.

Once you step in, there are more doors, more displays, more mirrors.
You could only see reflections of yourself along with their display.
Like a store, as seasons change, the display changes.
You think you know them, but you don’t.

So…which one are you?


Close the Door

Like a gust of wind,
you came to me.
Breaking my guard.
Breaking my walls of protection.


You lift me up,
and spun me around.
I was dazed in love.
I was lost in lust.

You were the cyclone.
The one who caused me ache.
I must be fucked up,
because I was addicted.

You would calm down.
Like a breeze on a summer day.
Soothing my heart.
Tickling my skin.

Then you were a hurricane.
Full of energy.
Leaving me breathless,
yet wanting for more.

Then you would calm down again.
But this time you were slowly drifting away.
I could still feel you tickling against my skin.
But you weren’t there.

Before I knew it,
You were gone.
I couldn’t breathe at first,
because I needed you.

I slowly re-built my walls.
Brick, by brick.
To cover the hole that you left.
I had to do it alone.

No matter how tall I stacked the bricks,
No matter how much bricks I’ve used,
There was still a gaping hole.
The hole only you can fit in.

I want to close the door.
So that you would stay inside with me.
But the door is still open.
Because I still can’t breathe.

Close the Door