My house of cards.

I'll tell you about the most fastidious of all our possessions. It is a structure weightless as a smile, fragile as a cracker and soft like a jellyfish, but shoots out its inciting venom once it wraps its arms around you. We forge it thoroughly as days do go by with absolute endearment. I made mine of paper; cards deposited together in layer upon layer. And before I knew it, I have already had a whole house on my own. And like a child with his coloring book, I started choking it up with all my favourite tinges. I embellished the place with all the posh chandliers dangling from rooftops, all the memories in frames placed carefully on every shelf and all the paintings hanged on every wall. I let people in, I created bonds .. more like kinships and I gave them benefits of the doubt. My first, my second and my last mistake. If my trust was the gun, then my heart was the bullet in their chamber. SNAP, just like that, they pulled the trigger. My fallen body was the earthquake that wrecked my world.
I'm sorry for myself I did this. I'm sorry I had to smash my heart into a million grains of sand so that it can't be laced back together. I never thought I would use the word 'foe' in my dictionary, never have thought it would be you. I hated every minute of it. Sometimes, I just lay in bed and imagine you never existed, we never met, we were never friends. That's my happy hour. That's the only time you never hurt me. You made it easy for me to say screw friendships, screw forevers, screw the caring and the trust that I gave. But I didn't. I still care, just not for you.
Now, I have built thicker walls; impenetrable -not of paper this time but- of bricks and mould on an islet far far far away from the main. I closed the hidden hatch I fabricated as a final addition shut, break the key in two; half I swallowed and the other I dumped into the foot of the the Mariana Trench. And in my room, I painted every wall so seamlessly white that my eyes would burn. The air grew heavier by the second, it's snowing in here and I am still wearing my grotesque apologies on my sleeves like a shotgunned bird with blood dripping, staining the snow. I'm breathing solid air. Again, I became imprisoned by the once-was my home, seduced by a secret outside world forbidden to me, hoping one day, I would break free.