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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

A Happy Family

For once I am grateful

Things are not perfect, I know

And things never will be

They can’t be

 

I will always be looking

into other people’s windows

What’s in their homes

I will always want a complete family

One that is happy

 

I realized years ago

I made it my personal quest

To find the perfect family

joyous and flawless

 

As if finding one

could bring me answers

I think years ago

what I wanted was hope

A possibility that one day

I could be happy too

I just didn’t know

 

But it was an unpractical dream

I did find happy families

But the happiness

was never permanent

Happiness wasn’t supposed to be present

at all moments

 

Even the one family I found

That came closest to what I supposed

a happy family should be

There are still hard times, disappointments

 

But during those moments

They surrounded each other

with love and acceptance

No blaming, no anger, no quarrels

Just support and acceptance

Not even a moment of hatred

 

I guess at that point

I kind of found ‘the’ family

And I wanted to make it mine too

They let me in

Included me like one of them

 

I thought I was finally happy

But there was still some void inside me

I noticed them

when I was trying to look away

 

The quest was a failure

I found ‘the’ family

But it still couldn’t fill up

the emptiness in me

 

When they eventually told me

about my family

For once I found contentment

Felt relieved

 

Because they thought we always looked so happy

And that they always saw so much love

When my father looked at me

The way he looked at me

 

They thought ‘we’ were the perfect family

The one I thought had been broken

They thought we were perfect

Somehow I had no memories

of what they were saying

 

But that gave me relief

I finally found answers to the questions

which I didn’t know I had

My father did love me once

 

They saw what they wanted to see

And thought we were perfect

I saw what I wanted to see

And thought they were perfect

 

But besides all that

Every family has their difficulties

No matter how fortunate they seem

There are still stories untold

Kept as secrets

Hoping others won’t notice

Keeping the appearances of perfection

 

Years later now

I’d say we are finally happy

Separated and apart

But happy

 

Most people would say

we are a broken family now

 

But individually

we are happy and content

Together we support each other

With love and acceptance

like I once witnessed myself

 

We are not perfect

But we are happy

We don’t have much

But we are happy

 

Like how mom and dad once were

They didn’t have much

But they were happy

Hope kept them together

Their imagination created the future

They were young and fulfilling dreams

Not perfect but very happy

 

And maybe now I can be too

 

Tired

Tired of being tired

Tired of pretending

Tired of trying

 

Trying to find an identity

Trying to find a way home

Trying to find a home

Trying to be alone

 

There is never enough space

And I’m always looking for an escape

Always lost in this time or this thing

Tired of faking smiles

Tired of heartbreaks

 

Tired of society

Tired of conforming

Tired of rebelling

Tired of tracing the footsteps back to nothing

 

Tired of loving

Tired of emotions

Or the lack of them

 

Tired of not knowing

Questions after questions

Always in the quest of solutions

Tracing the footsteps back to the beginning

Tired of being scared

Uncertainties cause commotions

 

Tired of squeezing meaning

Into this empty existence

Everything happens for a reason

not necessarily for a meaning

Tired of making efforts to see

Across the ocean

There’s nothing over the rainbow

 

Tired of spinning

on what I thought was merry-go-round

Spinning so fast

Barely recognize the world

I can never be sure

If I am joyous or

Just mimicking others

 

Merry is a story

The going only gets tough

Rounds are a misbelief

Tired of explaining

Why I don’t want to play

 

Tired of living

Tired of being

Dismembered concept

Shattered moments

Of an ironic C’est la vie

 

Painting colors on air

Efforts in vain

Tired of being tired

Tired of trying

 

Tired of being wrong

Tired of being right

Tired of wondering

If there is an answer for anything

 

 

 

 

 

 

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