I Am Made Of Stories Untold

The sweet nothings of the star struck lovers made me smile, the romance of the newly weds made me blush. Those first baby steps still reverberates in my soul.

I have seen it all. The fights, the love, the hate. I have chuckled at those bad TV shows you loved. The delicious smells from the kitchen, I have soaked in-I think I smell like the curries, the paellas, the baklavas, the barbequed ribs even now.

And I smell of you, of the families that made a home in me, of the families that grew, and those that sometimes, sadly became smaller.

Oh, the birthdays I celebrated with you and the mad parties I tolerated. The successes that made me proud, the failures that I helped you bear.

Your fights made me cringe, the hate that you spewed in that spur of that moment crushed my soul. But when you made up, I knew love owns a greater space in your hearts. And that made my heart grow big too.

I am the blend of so many of you, I am, in myself, a book not written. I am not made of bricks, but of stories untold.

I am the house you lived in, the one you called home, albeit just for sometime.

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