2021 semicolons: Notes from therapy

At 6, I lost my safe haven.
So, I built an electrified barbed-wire lattice; Cementing the spaces with the ashes of my youth.

It ain't pretty, but damn was it safe.

There were no warm arms to run to;
So, I installed a raging furnace inside my chest.

Now, the furnace is leaking and my chimneys are sore from crying and screaming and the floor is littered with pieces of broken promises.

It needs tidying so I let go of some embers; My palms were scorched but it's better than being burned alive.

My tears never changed anything;
So I alchemized them into ink.

I have this uncanny ability to hear sounds people can't normally hear;
Now, I have to learn how to unhear them.

Things about me from other mouths were unbearable;
Now, I am learning use a sieve to spot lies and truth.

I once saw rainbows in people. Something terrible happened, and now passers-by look like moving typhoons and thunderbolts.

Thankfully with hard-earned cash, an open line, and some courage; I was given a new set of glasses to see sunlight peaking through the clouds again.