There was no cause to write happy

Photo Source: Unsplash

When you mentioned home, memories seemed to have faded away

how it smelled was forgotten

how it broke into floating letters

H

O

M

E

was remembered.

How we were fed only

for the worms in our graves

for its darkness to wrap us soothingly.

I was neither born with a silver spoon

nor did I know what a "soft war" is

until

my dreams faded

and memories began to be silenced

by the earth

where it was nurtured.

Home was terrible than the mouth of shark

I loved it

I absorbed the pain that flowed therein… yet! its sourness would always taste candied.

Those times

dark moments,

bleeding hearts.

I wanted them

those moments of ironic happiness

those memories I burnt

for what could never be like home

for lies that spooked me

I lost them all

to what they painted home to be…"riot"

and I forgot home

is the place where my story began.

Why should I have written “happy” when my pen bled not about HOME.