By Yeshaswini Srihari
Trespassing:
To enter someone’s land or property without permission
My heart was made a home
By trespassers, who had no intention of staying.
They dug at the walls of my heart
They used pieces, which had no chance to heal
Pieces so sharp, that their love only meant pain
My heart was made a home by the reckless.
No welcome mat at the broken down door
No ceiling to protect the floor
No windows to let in the light
My structure was failing,
And I had no support.
My heart was made a home
And the fireplace was lit, but left unattended
Even after their stay had ended
And what was left of my heart
Was turned into ash, burning so bright
But soon turning darker than the night
My heart was in ruins.
My doors now remain locked
The windows are barred
This fireplace will now never see light
Unless there’s a love that’s willing to fight
To fight for me to unlock my heart
And let them replace the pain with art
By Yeshaswini Srihari
Comments