I was searching for a home
through your good and bad sides.
And we found the home in each other.
Familiar aches in our chests,
never questioned further,
whether it was truly safe.
I faced your dark side,
and you faced my anger.
For a while,
pretending that you didn’t care
was a guard you used
to hide from my rage.
Now nothing works,
only familiar heartbreak
left under the wreckage of the home.
You kept ringing the wrong bells,
I kept staring at the pieces of white walls,
listening to the silence.
Was it just a lesson?
Or was the first scene closed?
I can’t hear applause.
It shouldn’t be a curtain call.