Stardust

The stars are falling

They were shiny

Up high in the sky

 

Now they are landing

more like crashing

Through galaxies

Losing bits and bits of their body

 

Floating away in outer space

They reached to planet earth

lonely on the crowded streets

in between buildings

scattered and no longer together

far away from each other

 

dust and mud

possibilities to be anything

adjusting is a must

at least that’s what they believe in

 

with the wind and water

they start to grow taller

alone but stronger

shaped as humans

yet among the creatures

they are all still strangers

awkward and bewildered

by every existence

 

adjusting is a must

but they are still slightly lost

their glow has disappeared

nothing to guide them in the dark

no one to admire them at nights

 

yet one day out on the streets

At places most mysterious

Or perhaps occasions known most commonly

Two stardusts meet

They are no longer wrecked pieces

This time they are full of stories

From falling to landing

From missing to establishing

From glowing to dimming

From subsiding to realizing

 

Two stardusts meet

No longer wrecked pieces

Now full of stories

Tall and strong already

Ready to admire the other

Ready to glow together

 

 

Heaven

simple logic does not apply here

colorful flowers grow in river

In our hands they disappear

leaves fall down from trees

but flow in air

 

They flicker

In all the ways we perceive

 

There is no time here

I lay under the sun and see

clouds forming into shapes of faces

faces I had known but not here with me

the clouds are moving paintings

telling stories

forever changing

 

I grab the leaves which flow in air

gaze deep into their golden surface

In the reflections I see

those who I love and hold dear

still in different layers in space

they are not here beside me

but one day they will be

 

In the jades that hang on trees

I see all the creatures I had been

my cycle of life that never stopped spinning

until now

for once I am finally free

free of birth and death

free of love and hate

completely liberated

 

in this land

existence is not important

I exist in the breeze

in flowers

in the river

in oceans

I am whatever I want to be

 

in this freedom I see clearly

there is a reason for everything

not necessarily a meaning

in this land there is no sadness

no need to search for meaning in things

for I have come to the end of the beginning

for the kingdom of heaven is within

 

The Mask

we all wear it

the mask

a smile or a dance

laughter or music

 

scars hidden

we don’t talk about it

 

for a conversation

it’s not always the best topic

 

loved ones in the past

whom we sealed in a bottle

because they hurt us

and we haven’t let go

or we let them fall

and they left for another land

or they hurt themselves

and we could have done something about it

 

we don’t talk about it

the things that pained us

the sadness we thought we buried

that comes out when we don’t notice

the mistakes we have made

the loneliness we feel in bed

 

the nights we toss and turn

because the mask has fallen

the wounds are not transparent

not disguising its existence

 

we don’t talk about it

but we all wear it

the mask

it seems like a taboo

to talk about you

or me

or him

or her

or being lost again

 

we have been taught

what’s positive or negative

what’s strong and what’s weak

to snap out of it

so we wear a mask

so the things we are afraid of

won’t be brought up

so we won’t be blamed again

 

we wear a colorful mask

when we are hollow all day

suffering in our own way

but we don’t talk about it

afraid to be judged

afraid to cause harm

afraid to be exposed

afraid

just afraid

the mask covers so we don’t have to face

 

we all wear the mask

pretending to be okay

at a dinner party

friends’ gathering

important jobs

or maybe in a pub

characters we play

on this stage we call life

 

we should start talking about it

we should stop the judging and start understanding

start loving

start forgiving, you and me

we should leave people better than we found them

not let them fade

behind the mask

 

we should start talking about it

we should be okay with not being okay

with every hey are you okay

it should be a question full of love and respect

not a social gesture that’s a bit awkward

 

we should make others comfortable

feel safe

feel less alone

because in the end we are all the same

we are together in this place called life

and we should stop wearing the mask

by being the one that starts loving

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1246

1246 days

of sobriety

 

3 years

4 months

4 weeks

alcohol-free

 

The drunk version of me

Erased by memory

The crazy days

The erotic encounters

All seem so blurred

Lost in history

 

Buried deep in the dirt

Along with my lonely tears

The hearts I’ve broken

Friends who fled away

The relationships that faded

The sins I committed

People I lost faith in

All buried deep in the dirt

 

Bottles after bottles of alcohol

Demeanor of self-deception

Trusting that alcohol was alleviation

And yet left alone

with empty bottles

Empty as I was

Piled up like my troubles

Taking up all the spaces

Mocking my last sanity

 

Whiskey tasted like self-love

The next morning it reeked agony from my inside

the smell lingered

for 3 years

4 months

4 weeks

the mistakes I’ve made

all buried deep in the dirt

yet always there as a reminder

 

1246 days

alcohol-free

sobriety enables me to see

all the misery

clear and fair

what I suffer

How I suffer

the pain is greater when I am sober

I live through the sadness I try so hard to ignore

 

the past never truly disappeared

always there as a mockery

reminding me of all the failures

the worst version of me I have ever been

 

choosing recovery

but trapped in memory lane

the illusion of how whiskey can cure

seems so tempting

my mental disease

all relied on it

 

1246 days

alcohol-free

every today

is followed by a struggling yesterday

every hopeful tomorrow

is constructed by a skeptical today

 

3 years

4 months

4 weeks

of recovery

 

recovery glows flowers

adorning the grave I dug for myself

white and yellow flowers

on the dirt I buried my history

white as I my heart is now pure

yellow as the sun spreads hope

 

Depression Is

You talk about it

Like it’s something casual

There’s nothing casual about it

 

Depression is not casual

It is not just being troubled

It is not a cold

Which you can recover from in days

 

Depression is an assassin

Depression is the shadow that follows behind

Depression is the dark hole that consumes

Depression is me

 

Depression is the twisted state of mind

It is knowing that there’s something not right

But don’t know what it is

Don’t know how to fix it

Utterly clueless

 

It is being completely blind

Searching in darkness

Everything I touch makes me bleed

 

It is drowning in my own tears

Until I lose the ability to cry

To feel sadness

Or anything at all

Until numbness

is the only thing remains

 

Depression is the defense mechanism

A bubble that claims to keep me safe

As long as I stay in it

And believe in the projections it shows

 

Depression is something I keep in my pocket

Always with me

Wherever I am

Whomever I’m with

It tells me how to act

And not to take it out

So others won’t acknowledge

 

It is a tenant that checks in

Out of the blue

And my body is the landlord

It brings its friends over

Anxiety

Panic attacks

They party all night

Playing horror movies

I toss and turn

Can’t fall asleep for nights

 

Depression stays in my body

It is trying to take over

It gives me a mask

Ask me to wear it

So no one can see

While every cell in me

Is turning into depression

 

It is the bad neighbor

Drilling the walls

Filling my room with lousy noises

And yet filing complaints against me

 

Depression is not casual

Depression is the paralyzing negativity

It is transparent yet so powerful

It keeps me in bed

Everyone away

 

Depression makes sure that I am alone

So it can fulfil its duty

The task of an assassin

 

Depression is choosing recovery

over and over again

failing and succeeding and failing again

it is a loophole in time

repeating everything every time

 

it is hiding the beauty in life

says the blue sky is grey

or the loving friends don’t care

or universe has abandoned me

or I belong to the wrong galaxy

 

Depression

Is the devil with a thousand tricks

It is the opposite of life

It is not having a voice

Or a choice

 

Depression is many things

It is definitely not

Not casual

Like how you talk about it

For how Many Times

For how many times

we sob in the dark

Alone

Silent

 

For how many times

we believe in the person

Who claimed to help

Yet keeps us in suspense

Because they have their own problems too

 

For how many times

We wait to be saved

Until we are tired of waiting

And we only fall deeper

Still left alone

 

For how many times

we tell ourselves

everything will be okay

When we feel like a wreckage

 

For how many times

we drag our dead bodies along the way

Just so we can see the light at the end of the tunnel

 

For how many times

we look fear in the eyes

And cry but never give up

 

For how many times

we are melting down inside

But still keeping a smile on the outside

 

For how many times

We betray our heart

Just so we can get a nod

from someone else

 

For how many times

our tongues deceive our soul

Until we are lost in all the lies

 

For how many times

we seek death for relief

Yet see the sins we commit

 

For how many times

we punish ourselves

for the mistakes we made in the past

And hate ourselves for it

 

For how many times

We forget that we

Are a work in progress

 

For how many times

we do something over and over again

Until it loses its meaning

 

For how many times

we say I love you

Repeatedly

Until it becomes an empty promise

 

For how many times

we break others’ heart

Just so we can protect our own

 

For how many times

we wail in the shower

Hide in the closet

Cry our lungs out

And come out wearing a mask

 

For how many times

we hide and hide and hide

Until we disappear

Until the world forgets about us

Until the universe has decided to stop torturing us

 

For how many times

God closed down one window

And forgets about us

 

For how many times

we pick up the shattered pieces of yesterday

And try to glue them back together

In vain

 

For how many times

we feel like we don’t belong

Like a burden

Unwanted

 

For how many times

the only thing we fear

Is life itself

 

In this Ocean

In this Ocean

I am a carved wooden boat

with the ever-changing wind I float

I guess we are all lost in some degree

Eyes blinded and cannot see

 

In this Ocean

I am a carved wooden boat

I turn my head around

Struggle to float against the force

my body stiffen

eyes wide open

 

with all the strength

the unassailable flow of nature I defy

Just to gaze again

at the breathtaking scenery

which I once sang and danced to

 

In this Ocean

I am a carved wooden boat

always almost immersed by water

but would never let myself be smothered

because of the moon upon me

that I have made a promise to

 

I will always be empty

The carpenter who made me

have not seen me in the ocean

The sailor who once paddled me

Left after the fourth sunset we watched

 

And I will always be searching

for a shore that I can call home

but will always end up with the cold embrace of the waves

 

I let the storm fill me with the rain

convincing myself that rain

can do what glue does

Rain will piece me back like a puzzle

Rain will appease the tempest in me

 

When the stars come out and the rain stop

I realize that the rain drops

were the reason why

there was a tempest in me at the first place

 

but I still miss how the rain showered me

and how comforting it was to not be empty

I blame the clouds for taking my heart away

It would be the twentieth sunset

that I realize

rain belongs to somewhere else

a garden or a river, perhaps

 

I will always be saying goodbye

to the carpenter who made me

to the sailor who once

taught me everything about the ocean

to the waves that pushed me forward

to the sunrise and sunset

to the cruises that sometimes pass by

and with every goodbye I say

there is a crack somewhere on my body.

 

Someone somewhere

Once told me a story about how there is a lighthouse

in the end of this ocean

I do not believe it

I have been floating alone

for too long

and the idea of a lighthouse

sounds only like a story

 

I have counted the sunset too many times

That I stop waiting for it

I start to enjoy the darkness

that follows the sunset

I rejoice in how lost I am

I wonder if I am also like the lighthouse

Just a story someone carelessly mentions

I ask yet again the moon

for some sort of wisdom

 

the ocean water has never been warmer or brighter

I don’t remember ever reaching out for this softness

It seems like the ocean water has been holding me up

from the very beginning

I just never really looked at them this way

 

Then I remember the story someone once told me

About how there is a lighthouse

In the end of this ocean

It became my only dream

 

I imagine

This sublime white tower

this building that looks as jaded as I will have become

emitting light into the impalpable

 

somehow

It would let me close my eyes

And drown

I would hear the sound of nothingness

in the bottom of this ocean

 

When I open my eyes

I will feel the touch of the lighthouse

As loving and gentle

like the first time I sailed

I would find myself

a part of the tower now

Emitting lights into the depths of the darkness