Renting bits of my heart

Today, like every other day of the week, of the month, of the year, of my entire life, I’m renting parts of my heart.

I have big rooms, small rooms, with wide windows, little windows, opened to my entire soul or only to my visceral brain, with rainbow walls or monochrome, with ‘50s furniture or gothic.

Worst part of all is that you can’t choose were to stay: it can be on the ground floor, first floor or even in the attic. Be good, and kind, and gentle, sarcastic, silly, goofy, mysterious and fun and you can rule my castle.

Best part of all is that I’m paying everyone who’s renting me.

I’m paying with love and hate, memories, stories, moments of happiness and sadness, oblivion or dreams.

Fell free to own a part of me, a tiny little bit of heart.

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