You are my safe space,

My haven against personal walls.

My lifeboat when the world outside tries to drown.

I can picture every detail in my mind’s eye.

***

I love the bright green ficus plant in my window.

The tiny bit of life that comforts,

Rescued from my dad’s dark office.

You survived.

***

I hate the square hole in the wall that has been poorly patched.

An unwanted and un asked for scar.

An unfinished project of my father that was patched by my grandfather.

I pity you.

***

I neither love nor hate my door.

Scarred over the years just like me.

Both grief and hate scored into the wood,

Like the lines on my palm.