I own a home ,
Built by the bricks of my traumas ,
Cemented with my insecurities.
Where the exterior
is painted of my exotic laughter ,
Accompanied with my crooked teeth.
When you step into the verandah ,
Your feet may feel warm,
The warmness of my hug.Most of it's rooms are occupied by grief.
My anger issues owns the biggest room ,
The toys and hearts I broke are stored there.
My kindness lives in the kitchen ,
Since the burning flames of trust issues Patted on it's cheek,
It shape-shifted into my agony.Love owns the smallest room ,
Yet my love made it graceful.
It was locked and it's key was forgiveness.
Forgiveness to my درد,دل and بدنNote ::
دل ۔ heart
درد - pain
بدن ۔ body
YOU ARE READING
Gravestones of survival.
Poetry~People often misunderstand my gravestones of survivals into piece of art.~ Random pieces of poetry.