In a run-down, structurally unsound house
My soul resides there
I call it a house, not a home
Because home is where the heart is
And my heart isn't there
But somewhere out there
In the hands of people who took a few pieces
And suddenly, left
My search for it is never progressing
For every piece I find, a few more is taken
Till there's nothing left but an empty shell
And broken shards of my glass heart
Gripping the shards so tightly
That it cuts my hand
The blood of my life slowly trickling down my fingers
Making me feel deader by the second
And as the life empties from me
My soul sits in the kitchen of its run-down house
Waiting for what once made its house a home
Is it gonna end like this?
Me, broken and empty?
No. It won't
As the life drains out, the pieces I desperately grip is taken from me
My hand, slick with blood
Cleaned and bandaged
My glass heart, so fragile
It's pieces scattered throughout
Not returned to me but replaced
By new pieces, with non-sharp edges
Incapable of hurting me
Of cutting me
Of doing any more damage
But capable of filling up the puzzle of my glass heart
I look around for the culprit and just see a note
I read it and smiled, and finally
Started the journey back to the house of my soul
For once not returning empty-handed
Or with hands filled with bloody pieces
But with clean, bandaged hands
Holding new pieces for my new glass heart
Not yet filled now but someday
And as I tell my story, my soul asks what the note said
I smiled and told it,
"Sometimes we have to let go of old pieces
Because it's better to get new ones
Than to hurt our self trying to fix it
When we know better than anyone it's beyond repair."
And so with the help of my soul
I renovate the run-down house of my soul
And try to make it a home
Not with the broken pieces
Of my glass heart from before
But with the love and patience
My new-found heart has got.
YOU ARE READING
Poems By A Lonely Cloud
PuisiJust poems. For my project. At least at first. Now its poems, an outlet for my thoughts and feelings at the current time. Thought its utterly confusing, I understand what im writing and I see myself grow through this. How I mature. Although im still...
