Your heart isn't a home for every person who seeks shelter.
Your heart isn't a piece of paper where people can sign off without saying goodbye.
Your heart isn't supposed to heal their wounds every time.
Your heart isn't a beautiful painting where people can trace it's different strokes
Please remember that your heart isn't a home for every person that knocks at your door.
Don't let them tamper with the love that you harbor.
Your heart is not made of gold. But it is full of kindness.
Your heart is not a home with a welcome mat spread right outside.
Your heart isn't a yard sale where people can trade emotions whenever they feel like.
Your heart is naive like a kid and it does not realize what is wrong and what is right.
Your heart is not a home for the person who leaves their footprints on the ground and vanishes right out of sight.

i sit in the shadows and think
of what it would be like to show my wings.

they flutter behind me gently,
casting flickers of light on the walls behind.

colors gently fade and twist,
and feathers lightly fall to the ground.

the room i stay in is dark.
it has thick walls to protect me.

every now and then, the floor will rumble,
causing cracks to appear.

but, they seem to fix themselves.
struggling never helps.

i have been told i am shameful.
i must hide away, not show myself.

no one knows of me, except for one.

she seems to be intent on keeping me here.
but,

i hear her crying herself to sleep.
i hear people yelling against my kind.
i feel the rumbling of my floor caused by her sobs.
i feel the pain of when she pulls my chains even tighter.

i want nothing more but to be free
to be by her side, floating near her
letting her be who she truly is.

i feel the loss of hope,
as my small room becomes darker and darker.
it's hard to breathe.

a small creature such as i,
wings of pink, purple, blue,
a robe with every color

it's hard to be one like me.

but i'll survive, until i can see the rainbow.