Don't look at my wall— Warn them before they visit.
The designs aren't ordinary—they consume.
Even angels feel lost at their first step.
Curiosity blinds them, Drawn in like moths to ruin.
They never listen. they continue to stare—
Eyes wide, hearts still.
Then it begins. It gnaws at their minds,
Twisting thoughts into knots, peeling truth from sanity.
Or worse— It exposes me,
Strips me bare before their gaze,
Revealing the mess I hid behind paint and patterns.
These walls hold everything.Whispers. Screams.
Every poem, every plea, Even this piece
Bleeds from their cracks.
Still, they look.
Still, they fall.
And the wall—The wall always remembers.