If walls could speak, what would they say?

I was built out of fear.

Fear made the bricks. Fear mixed in and baked ’til it was stubborn, solid, immobile.
Fear made the mortar, mixed and smeared over every last brick, ’til no space remained.
Fear made a wall, and everything inside the walls became fearful, for it lived in a house that fear built, surrounded by a wall that fear built.

I was built out of fear, and I am always afraid.

Unstack my bricks, and pick off my mortar… how can I be afraid if there is no fear?