Home.

Part of you and part of me. The place where we start from, the place where we end at and the rest of the in-between. The nest sewn out of sticks, stones and all the garbage lying around, the hand that held us through the storms within, the trickling stream that washed away the grime of many upheavals. Like fish out of water and a bird inside a cage, the absence of it reminds me of every human in captivity. It’s the place where we remain smiling and your arms seem like the protective armor that does not hurt. The place of a thousand beautiful sights, without having to move. The place of love and feeling of being loved in return.  Like wind in my hair, the smile on your face, and the restlessness of having been near something beautiful, yet not being able to hold onto it, the love fading out as daily monotony.

I saw you in the distance, while the new rain of the season covered you with a blanket of mist, as you broke through it, I fell an inch deeper in my new grave.  The grave I knew to be the death of me, yet being a place of utter contentment and relieving sighs. The place from where my trappings and twisting thoughts emerge, the place of having known sadness and happy times, while returning to it after all the work has been taken care of.

The place from where I grew up wide-eyed at the sizes of flowers and fruits, imagining them to be coming out from fairy wings. The shock at discovering the absence of tooth fairies and cartoons in real life.  But I’m still safe, my childhood gone, my innocence taken away and I’m here. I’m still here for you, waiting for you to help me crawl my way out. Where mother and father sheltered me; where you still take a place within all of the everyday noise. I want you here, not going anywhere, sharing the same cup of hot chocolate and lying in peace in front of the fireplace.

Are you wondering where this place is? This is home.

 

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