Your Heart Is My Home

kioshi14
kioshi14

It can be found in the corner of a closet where the plain old clothes usually hang to remind us of cold memories. It is sealed in a box full of love letters and gift wrappers. It is painted on the walls and ceilings, with marks of “I love you” and “forever” carved by a bread knife. It is located on the shallows of the wooden floor where our dancing shoes tend to clutter on the ground, while the music of “Wonderful Tonight” keeps on playing as we dance.

They are all supposed to be a part of us but become our whole story where happiness can be seen not in the wonderful places and breathtaking sceneries but in the universe of someone’s eyes. Love is all around the edges of the simple yet cozy bedroom of ours. It may look dull but it will continue. It may fall out of its own rhythm leaving traces of dust made by blurred images of misunderstanding.

But love can make its own way by knocking on the doors made by our dear hearts and making a safe ground for us to breathe again.

Then, the hearth in the fireplace starts to make us feel its warmth. It may be a painful process and love will definitely look for a new shelter but no one will ever make it feel special anymore. Then, there comes a storm where thunder and lightning try to destroy the foundation yet the odds are in our favor; and we find ourselves hugging each other and keeping our strength to continue fighting and loving. There are no more rooms for regret and pain because we know how to take care of the garden. We water the plants of love and remove dried leaves of lies until we saw a fully grown tree shading us away from harm.

The garage no longer holds any form of crashed toys, of messy leftovers and empty spaces because it is filled with new versions of ours. There are no more wounded souls and hearts but a sanctuary where the butterflies can be seen fluttering inside our stomach.

Your heart is my home and my forever shelter where the darkest hours turn into the brightest form of daylight.

This is where pain becomes a joy and sadness shifts into beauty for you make me see things wonderfully and in a bigger perspective. You do not just make me feel safe but indeed, you build me a place where fear does not have any space to take.

Now, look at those old clothes, worn-out box, fading scratches of words on the walls and you will see how every single thing in my heart finds its way back home. To you. And no one else anymore. TC mark

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