enter this mansion,
the place where love is given out
in little clear bottles
so you can put them on your shelves
back to back with knowledge carriers
bound so tight in leather
the ideas flow out as you take a peek.
these beautiful bottles have
but one thing in common:
the memories you can glimpse in them
happened entirely by a fireplace
in a house, my house,
far away from here,
where the walls are so thick
that you can't hear the tears
but i know that should i choose to
i would open this door
and find comfort in my mother's love.
people have walked past it
thousands and thousands of times
and never noticed anyting odd
but i swear, on my father's kindness,
the front door leads to another world.
step into the witch's lair
all your prejudice wiped away
completely free of exterior negativity,
she might teach you a thing or two,
or maybe, make some tea.
bubble, bubble, toil and trouble;
something wicked this way comes.
10.1.18 / 15.12 / this is my family... i owe them so much, an ocean of words would not be enough to thank them. so here's a poem instead.