Up Against It

I’m up against it,
the wall that is,
its smooth surface
featureless and bland
and rough and raspy
all at once.

It shuts me out
and cuts me off
and defines me
as outside even
though I might
actually be inside.

But really, what
does it matter
since you are not
on the other side
and so this wall
meaningless is just mean?

Here is what hurts the most:

you deny it is there
and it mushes my face

up against it.