You aren’t alone in your contempt for the world for I stand with you.
But neither are you alone in your delight of the things that make a home.
The sleeping child, secure in the knowledge that we will battle any monster that might call in the night.
The absurdity of unrelenting forgiveness.
And the fiery embrace of these four walls. A place of shelter, but one primed to incinerate every unfamiliar intrusion.
Whatever hurts, whatever scars, sit at our table need not be nurtured nor long entertained, only accepted.
Thus freeing our hands so that the world might finally fall away from our grip.
© TZampino 2020
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