Figuratively speaking, your body is your first home.
And, as goes for all homes, your heart is your living space. A place where family members, friends and loved ones converge. That one room that takes you back to when your heart was still a crimson creek. it didn’t only bleed to live, it needed love and warmth, love and warmth from him while he lay there with you, the warmth that was also experienced by your first home. Because it was all connected. Your heart felt it all as the other members fussed over him. He was theirs too.
But now that living room has caved in, and through it, no blood flows, the muscles still contract, they have to pump, just like how your stomach has to ingest, digest and then expel. The very description of life going on
Your home still looks great outwardly, but inwardly it is falling apart.
You know it is falling apart, but you hide it from everyone. What good will telling them do.
You do your best to heal your home, but like the homes that are broken beyond repair, your home heaves too.
Fingers in symphony 