I am an abandoned building with a few birds visiting me after sunset. Sometimes kids enter through the front door to search for a lost cricket ball and other times it's just me trying to find my lost moments among the creases of these walls.
The paint on my walls is the only one who truly understands my pain, for we both are losing our existence, one layer at a time.
Today I'm covered in dust and cobwebs of memories and betrayal, betrayal of the people who moved on without a second glance while I stood here preserving their stories among every brick of mine, in the hope that they will realise one day that I'd been a good home and return. But alas!nothing like that happened.
And now, it's just me, my broken windows and my tattered doors, singing dirges and reminiscing our days of glory.
There are days when a person or two walks inside my doors, breathing life into my walls, but the moment is as short lived as a heartbeat, a missed heartbeat. And then it's just me and my loneliness, whispering stories of hope to each other.
The leftover hope tastes bitter on my tongue but I swallow it anyway, for the truth tastes worse and I don't have the courage to digest it yet.
Yours 'once upon a time' home
- Ish
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A/n
Hello beautiful people ❤️
When I started this book, I never expected it to do numbers, but I'm genuinely happy to see the response here. Thank you 💜
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
Poetry~ if not between the lines, where else can I find my peace? ~ Trigger warnings applied || Poetry Collection ||
