People Come. Conquer Our Hearts. And Then They Go.

People come. Conquer our hearts. And then they go.

What do they leave behind?

A yearning heart that believes it is fine, but wears the voids they left, like a soldier wears scars from the wars. Like I am glad it happened on the outside but on the inside, my body still twitches in pain remembering of it.

I lived in a four walled house, and had a roof above me for shelter. The roof above me, had another roof above it to shelter it. Like I had a trust that both roofs together will not let harm reach me. Now after this storm, the topmost roof is gone, and the roof above me feels abandoned and isolated. I feel scared. Now, we both are vulnerable. The roof above me, a little more than me. I just wish I myself collapse before this roof above me does, so I don't have to feel the pain the debris will cause me. But if this happens, the roof will be immensely hurt.

Why is life so cruel?

I still live in a four walled house, only hoping the roof above me stays strong forever.

You know what home is?

The place we succumb to at the end of the day.

Or the place where someone awaits our arrival.

Or some comfortable pieces of furniture enclosed within concrete walls.

Or the place we first felt confined in.

Or the place we first desired to run from.

Or? What exactly?

Some days I feel all this, is a dream, or a nightmare at times. This living, these ambitions, these people I love, and these books I read. Some days, I wonder what it will be to wake up from this one. Like wake up panting, drowned in sweat, bittersweet glimpses and me agitated. I wonder if I will finally wake up the day, I will fall asleep forever, for this world.

And what kind of madness it is by the way, to expect back as much as you give? To want to die happy and content and not disappointed? This is the world we are talking about. Tragedy is silent here. Not absent.

"You sit inside your room while it rains outside, press your face to the glass and watch those tiny drops reach their destination, the inviting ground. Then, you go outside, get drenched and your long hair sticking to your face, the clothes clinging like leeches, and warmth long gone.

Some things are better off far and distant. Embracing too much of them often makes you ill. Stay home. Stay dry."