I still dream about the home my lifegivers nestled in in hopes to start life anew in a country that will once begin to tear
All over in the course of years,
They began to paint over the white walls with the yells that bounced from wall to wall.
Never realizing our big family will soon turn small.
Everything was blue, and only two spots became red.
That was the day my father realized he had the strength to break down this nest with his very hands.
I turned and saw mother, multicolored with blue red and purple. As expected, she always had an eye for colors.
I turned to see my siblings, cornered and shaking so hard, our blue began to stain the floor.
Seeping through the cracks and digging into the dirt which will eventually begin to tear down the house.
A grand finale of a door slammed shut.
No back turns, just left us in the rut.
I sleep and wake up into the mixture of birds singing,
and in the next room my mother is crying.
I open my door and it falls to my feet.
I look around, and I'm overwhelmed with defeat.
Our house is broken, it's all gone now.
The dwindling love that once blossomed is extinguished now.
I pick up the pieces and begin to rebuild.
Surround the walls around my mother, to keep her safety sealed.

Because sadness can’t be left alone, sadness stays and seeps into you in hopes to weather into your mind and heart until the process of deterioration begins.
... You see,

I didn't understand love for awhile since.
Hardship after hardship, it still never made sense.
I came to realize that love is painful.
Love is sorrowful.
Love is beautiful.
Love is blissful.
Love is the act of rebuilding a broken house.
It isn't just about your spouse.
Love is inviting forgiveness into your rebuilt house in order to keep moving.
Soon enough, those feelings can be packed into boxes and displayed in the new house you move in.
And although there are still many cracks and torn down roofs,
The strength of the wall shows that love is bulletproof.

I have yet to learn more about love, about forgiving, about betterment.
But for now, I'll keep rebuilding my own home with more bricks and cement.

He wants to pretend that last night was on the timeline of never.
But he forgets to remember that I’m an overthinker.
Drinking the venom that forms on his mouth.
Letting it spread into my veins until it numbs my capability to make words come out.
Tangled in his web of lies, waiting patiently to let him bite my head off.
Beaten up by his uncontrollable anger until I’m left in gravel with a ****** spit and a hoarse cough.
Standing at the very end of the line of dominoes he purposefully toppled over.
Unsure of his motives to hurt me, I don't think the pain will get any better.

I don't know what I did wrong for him to hate the person he used to love so dearly.
I feel death will be the bandage for the knife wounds he left in my heart so merely.
I wish he knew how much it hurts and how much I cry.
But to him, it's just another day passing by.