the building of

my walls are made of marshmallows
i insist that they are steadfast and strong
you will not get in, i have my boundaries
but you are made of flames, they 
char and melt
at your slightest touch

my walls are made of cheese 
and you are a mouse
nibbling away at the cheddar and jack
that compose my boundaries, these
borders i create for the safety
of both of us

i want walls of brick and mortar
concrete, stone, spanish tile
any material you cannot consume
i say this as i let you in
over and over i am inviting you
into my depths while simultaneously
covering myself in warnings
yellow caution tape 
that makes a hypocrite of me
as i pull you close, closer still

you  press so lightly at my surface 	   
i hardly notice how far this has gone
until i look out from the building i
keep myself inside
to find i am standing yet again
exposed, sans walls, feet stepping 
on nothing but soft earth below.