She's a Brick and I'm Drowning Slowly

I use to make bricks out of mud in the third grade, they would harden over night and I don't know why I remember that but I do, we made enough bricks to build a small school the entire baseball field had no dirt left and maybe that's why I never liked the sport. My house is the color brick and i still don't know if that's brown or red but I do know its the place where I first saw my grandpa he wasn't real but he was smoking a pipe and I really do believe in ghosts, Ghost are real.... He wasn't the first fake real thing I've ever met but that doesn't makes sense. 

My school is made of bricks and so is my church. I don't know many other things about bricks but I do know she's built enough walls between us to re build the twin towers, and I don't want to see them get knocked down again. Bricks use Barium Carbonate to control efflorescence....
 and that's real, don't ask me what that means I had to look it up

 I know bricks are real but so is she, she's real every time she smiles, she's real every time she plays with her food, every time she coughs or hits her head on my car ceiling, She's real when she's walking to her doorstep, and every time I play a song and she knows its about her.  When she cries and when she can't stop laughing, I know she's real cause she wants me to write about her and I think its about time cause she has wrote me a few books I just don't know what to say cause only sad things come to mind. She's nothing like a brick and that makes no sense because as far as I know there both real and they both have to potential to kill. I haven't made a brick sense those times in the third grade but I think i am going to be an architect now so I could build you a whole city out of the brown and red rocks and I will make sure that you know that the only thing that's real is when I say I built it all for you.