Shelter
Shelter immigrant stories
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marigali2710
marigali2710I'm trying
Autoplay OFF  •  7 months ago
My old bedroom and what it means to me

Shelter

It was once purple Then white, black and red And at the end, it was a combination of colors chosen with closed eyes

You get so used to flaws That almost ceased to being it To become a great scar that tells a story

How many secrets can these walls tell you? Will they keep track of all the tears, laughter and kisses? Of the nights without sleep? Of the explored worlds?

Your eyes are diverted To a gray and pink fabric That filters the sun's rays And partially conceals the souls That seek safety behind their shadow

Wood becomes universes Cotton dreams Paper in goals And the slender figure printed on the curtains irremediably transforms into insecurities

And with nostalgia you remember Naps a little too long, A plush crocodile, two dogs, Three cats and a videogame How could you be so happy just with that?

The flowers in the window They reminded you of yourself Sometimes so alive Sometimes so dry And nobody noticed them Until you pointed them out

And how to forget That smell that could only mean "home" A combination Of the detergent for the sheets The shampoo that you used A touch of your aunt's perfume And the beautiful characteristic smell of a cat

Now that you are so far from that shelter You cry with the memory of its essence And of everything that symbolized

And you wonder how it was possible To feel so safe from the chaos of the world And at the same time so connected with its beauty

Thanks to four concrete walls A window And a door.

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