Under The Casket Of Hatred And Oppression

006

Traces you Left

I used to stay in these four walls, but it seems to be terrifying now.

It's a mistake for not locking the door, but I knew I closed it. Still you opened it, and came in without my permission.
I'm so stupid for letting it pass, and now you eventually left with the things you had stolen. You even broke the furniture, I used to rest.

When you left that door, I repeatedly cursed you in the mirror.
You took everything from me. From that moment on I made a promise to myself that if I learned how to close that door, then I will not allow anyone to walk in again, ruin the things I value the most, and leave me fractured.
Even if someone's hungry, or thirsty, and homeless, my home will not be welcoming unfamiliar guests anymore.

These wrecked four walls I lived in, where peace does not exist. You broke me, and urged me to make this feud as my reason to hold you down.

I could blame this on you but I must not. I brought this upon myself, I must live with it.

Maybe if I told you to knock first, maybe you wouldn't go in. Maybe if I told you that those furniture was my only souvenir, maybe you wouldn't have shattered it into pieces. Maybe if I was strong enough to stand on my own feet, maybe you wouldn't have given me that wheelchair.

I know I burst out when I finally saw the mess you created, for I know you'll just leave. But look at me now, I am the only one left. To buy the things you stole, to fix my furniture, and to learn to walk up again straight and tall.

For I know in the end, you'll choose to leave, well everybody does, and when that time comes, It's no longer hard to let go. Yet shivering inside to every possible knock, cause I'm still wiping all the traces you left in all the corners of my house.