human – Page 2 – Butterfly Poetry

Introverted

There’s too many people

In the living room

Making small talks

Covering the basics

What they do

Where they’re from

The weather’s looking rather good

Jokes about whatever it is

I wonder if we can skip

These small talks

Meaningless small talks

Killing time

Disguising awkwardness

I wonder why we do this

Meaningless small talks

Covering the basics

Repeating it

To everyone newly met

Disguising awkwardness

Killing time until the party ends

We go home with nothing but jokes and names

of someone we still barely know

Acquaintances

Is what small talks make people into

Not friends

Just someone you met at the party

I wonder why we do it

Gather together

Using small talks to fill in the gaps

Meaningless and dull

Just because we have to

It makes me uncomfortable

Is this what we’re doing with our time

It stresses me out

We could have been doing something else

Anything but this

Is it just me

Or does small talks really cheer people up

Bring them together

Like their laughters are genuine

Because I know mine’s not

Sitting there wondering

Is this why we’re all here for

Talking about food

Nodding but not listening

There’s too many people here

People I’ve never met

And maybe never will again

I’ll forget about their names

Their Interests

Or what they look like

After a few days

So why are we doing this

Hanging out

Talking about everything but nothing

Trying to be part of something

More people are coming in

And it makes me feel queasy

The room is not big enough

And the noises are too loud

People trying not to miss out

I guess anyone could do without this party

After all it’s just for fitting in

With a bunch of new strangers we will soon call friends

But really, we still don’t know much about them

Or will forget about them soon enough

So why are we doing this

Something that will lose its meaning tomorrow

Talking about everything but nothing

Laughing to jokes awkwardly

But don’t really understand why it’s funny

Is this what we really are

Consists of small talks

Everything but nothing

Untitled

When people mention him

I tell them, he

Is out of town, working

So I don’t have to explain

How he

Just left me

Praying to the stars

Crying myself to sleep

Picking up my cold trembling body

Out of the shower

Searching

For something to hold on

Staring

All day at that door

That he

May never enter again

At least

Not as him

I tell people, he

Is out of town, working

So there is no need to explain

How he is now

Less of a father

But more of a stranger

It is you

And I against the world together

Is what he used to tell me

It is now nothing

But an empty echo

A broken promise

The disappearing of a memory

I imagine

What he must have felt like

On the day he left

How he swore

Not to shed a tear

Not to regret

Not to look back

At his daughter

Who he could no longer hold

In his arms, anymore

I imagine

On the fast moving bus

With his body rested

And his perfectly hidden

Despondent look

There was something missing

Inside of him

10 miles, 20 miles, 200 miles

He became an empty vessel

As he whispered to himself

She will be fine

As if these words

Could refill the empty vessel

With his tentative dreams

Of ever having a daughter

The sweetness of yesterday

Vanished at the tip of his tongue

He tasted nothing

but air now

Nothing

But the bitterness of dying memories

He looked down

At the one-way ticket

He held in his hands

The person he used to call

His daughter

He could not touch, cannot feel

Could not recognize

The dimming lights behind her eyes

She is not

Not his daughter he used to hold

In his arms, anymore

It is you and I

Against the world together

Is just another empty echo

A broken promise

In her already shattered universe

The Game

*Something i wrote when I was seventeen.

I am a vegan

Who feels sorry

For the suffering animals’ souls

I am a virgin

And yes I’m seventeen years old

But I feel

Like I’m one of those

Suffering animals’ souls

So I put up the walls firm and tall

This way, I can heal

From the wounds which cut me deeply

That I bleed

Every single night in my dreams

Where I see myself left

With only bones

Buried in the bottom of the dungeon

To which

I am confined

Yes, I’m seventeen years old

A vegan and a virgin

I can easily

Spit out these identities

But still feel baffled

Still, feel frazzled

why？

My parents asked me

They never fathom

Every day, I try

I think

It’s because every day I try

To be “something”

Be polite, be positive

Be generous, be happy, be a lady

Talk louder, be a boss, but not too bossy

Be indispensable, be in control

Make us proud

But remember

Be yourself

I am tired

Of this game that we call life

Playing by the rules

Written for someone else

With a knife on my throat

I toss the dice

And try to survive

But this game is not fair

Not from the very beginning

They say even though

Life itself is an empty existence

Aspire to fill it

With a sense of belonging

But hey

I did not consent

To playing this game

Yet here I am

Trying to makes sense

Of all that I have not signed up for

I am tired of this game

And if the game writers

Have mercy at all

They

Would just leave me alone

I can’t recognize myself anymore

Like the suffering

animals’ souls

I remember

When I was twelve

Standing next to a bookshelf in my room

With Anna Karenina in my hands

Telling dad that I hope to study literature

and philosophy in the future

He told me blatantly

That I couldn’t possibly

make a career out of it

he wanted me

to be more like him

a lawyer

or perhaps

a law professor

I remember in middle school

I wished I could be

More like my brother

Because apparently

He was a born winner

And was adored by every creature

I was not made for this game

And that wasn’t acceptable

For a kid in middle school

She just wanted to be normal

No one liked that girl

Who sat in her seat

Reading all day long

Lacked of human interaction

You see

I think the rules of this game

Is written for and written by

People like my brother

Over the years

I slaughtered myself

Changing the soul

Bit by bit

Compromising

To society norms

I don’t recognize myself anymore

Like the suffering

animals’ souls

and if the people in this game

have mercy at all

they

would spare me a round

and leave me alone

Every day Is a Silent Hallelujah

Every day

is a silent hallelujah

For it is suffer that we mostly face

Daggers made of honey

is what we embrace each day

We don’t mature with years

but with damages

it is unfortunate yet accurate

to say

we are all damaged goods

but that’s okay

it is all just part of the process

For each day

we try so hard to fix what’s not quite right

in our lives

in ourselves

In whichever way we may believe in

In search

of a window of opportunities

That leads us back to happiness

To forget about the scars

marked on our flesh as time goes by

after all the wars we have each day

with ourselves and with dear life

marching our way through existence

To whomever is reading this

It’s a miracle how you,

are still alive

For how far you’ve come

For the silent battles you have each day

Wounded and jaded

But yet still here

Alive and breathing

Resting, maybe

But I know when the next battle comes

You, will rise up

glaring at this world

like the very first time

but it is wisdom

that you will gain this time

so every day

is a silent hallelujah

you,

are the only person

who knows how hard it is

to be you

the good and bad

the days you smile so proudly with victories

the mornings you cry in the shower

the incalculable sadness that comes after sunset

when everyone has gone home

and you are left alone

it is in pain and loneliness

that you find your strength

realizing what you are made of

only when you have lost everything

can you start building

all the unanswerable questions in life

to which I don’t know the solutions

yet I know what a miracle it is

that you are still here

breathing and alive

utterly lost and heartbroken

but you have walked a lonely path

through all the doors that kept shutting down

all the way to today

you fight for yourself

for your own existence

no matter how quiet the battle is

or how slowly time flows by

every day is a silent hallelujah

for you are still here

breathing and alive

Somedays Sometimes Someone

To someone I’m a lover

To someone I’m a sinner

To someone I’m a memory

Somedays I feel like a burden or a failure

Somedays I feel blessed or glamorous

Sometimes I’m a traveler

Sometimes I’m a prisoner

Sometimes I have a home

Sometimes I don’t

Sometimes I’m too yellow

And other days I’m too white

There are days when I can’t fall asleep

There are days

my bed becomes a locked room with no windows

There are nights I dream of his smiles

There are nights I die in my dreams

Sometimes I can feel the gravity

Sometimes someone is my gravity

Sometimes I’m just floating in the air

Lost and scared

Sometimes I am a dreamer

Sometimes I lose the race

Somedays I have answers