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THE HOME THAT LEARNED TO WHISPER
<p><br/></p><p>This is a home</p><p>that forgot how to talk</p><p>and mastered how to shout.</p><p><br/></p><p>Where small disagreements</p><p>put on boxing gloves,</p><p>where a misplaced cup</p><p>became a courtroom,</p><p>and love learned to raise its voice</p><p>before it learned to listen.</p><p><br/></p><p>Here, arguments did not walk</p><p>they ran,</p><p>they sprinted up the walls,</p><p>bounced off the ceiling,</p><p>and landed as echoes</p><p>that refused to die.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Why are you yelling?”</p><p>was yelled.</p><p><br/></p><p>And sarcasm lived in the kitchen,</p><p>leaning against the sink like a bad habit.</p><p>“Oh, of course,” it said,</p><p>with a smile sharp enough to cut plates.</p><p>Passive words, aggressive tone,</p><p>sentences dipped in poison</p><p>and served as jokes.</p><p><br/></p><p>This home collected grudges</p><p>like family heirlooms.</p><p>Old fights were framed and rehung,</p><p>brought out during new conversations</p><p>as proof that forgiveness</p><p>never signed the lease.</p><p><br/></p><p>“You always do this.”</p><p>“You never change.”</p><p>The past kept interrupting the present</p><p>until the future stopped showing up.</p><p><br/></p><p>And oh, the interruptions.</p><p>Sentences murdered mid-breath.</p><p>Thoughts cut off like power outages.</p><p>One voice climbing over another</p><p>just to be heard,</p><p>just to win,</p><p>just to speak louder than love.</p><p><br/></p><p>No one listened here.</p><p>They waited.</p><p>Waited for their turn to attack,</p><p>waited to reload old pain,</p><p>waited to be right</p><p>instead of being kind.</p><p><br/></p><p>Until one day,</p><p>the home grew tired.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tired of ringing ears.</p><p>Tired of broken conversations.</p><p>Tired of love speaking</p><p>in uppercase letters.</p><p><br/></p><p>So it learned to whisper.</p><p><br/></p><p>It learned that discussion</p><p>is not defeat.</p><p>That silence can be sacred</p><p>when it is not punishment.</p><p>That listening is an act of courage.</p><p><br/></p><p>In this home,</p><p>voices softened,</p><p>interruptions paused,</p><p>sarcasm packed its bags,</p><p>and grudges were finally laid down</p><p>like weapons at the door.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because love does not need to shout</p><p>to be heard.</p><p>It needs space.</p><p>It needs patience.</p><p>It needs two people brave enough</p><p>to lower their voices</p><p>and raise their understanding.</p><p><br/></p><p>This is the home</p><p>that learned to whisper</p><p>so love</p><p>could finally speak</p>
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