women – Page 2 – Butterfly Poetry

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

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

Note to Self: Things I’ve Learned from Depression

Embrace every moment

You are not depression

You are more than your illness

resentment

is a cage you need to escape

resentment against others

is always resentment against oneself

Fear is not to be afraid of

Look fear right into the eyes

they are not the enemy

do everything with grace and integrity

love your own company

Your emotions are valid

Don’t deny them

Observe them

Understand and accept

Don’t be afraid to fail

Mistakes and failures constitute success

Learn with acceptance

never devalue yourself

when someone achieves what you are aiming for

be happy for them

They probably work just as hard as you do

if not more so

try to go outside at least once a day

don’t dwell in an episode

it’s okay not to be okay

and love as many people as you can

along the way

Give

Give everything you have

and ask for nothing in return

It’ll make you a happier person

Be who you needed

when you were younger

you have fought

to be the person you are today

don’t underestimate

the strength you possess within

and don’t degrade others

just so you can feel better

stand tall and firm

for what you believe in

but reserve the right to be wrong

at all times

constantly and regularly

examine your opinions

Make sure they don’t evolve into prejudices

Always be curious

Ask questions

Fight for your rights

don’t compromise yourself

you are all you’ve got

Happiness and realization

come in the most unexpected forms sometimes

Never reject anything at first sight

don’t be afraid to change

We are all different people throughout our lives

and that’s good

We have to move on

Allow others to change too

you can’t find peace by avoiding life

Focus on one day at a time

Let other people’s biases stay as their biases

It is what you do at the moment that defines you

And that changes all the time too

there’s always room and time

for acts of kindness

there will always be uncertainties

We are all lost in some degree

and that’s okay

we are all the same

Everyone’s struggling with something

We all get desperate sometimes

So be kind

you don’t need to have sex to be sexy

your sexuality is yours

Own it

you don’t need to be hungry to feel pretty

please exercise and eat

Take care of your body

you’re gonna need it

If you see peace

you can find energy

If there’s not much you can do

grow a plant, or anything

then at least

you’re doing something good for earth

Don’t go wherever the crowds go

You matter the most

do what feels right to you

never judge

You always know less than what you think you do

You are enough

you are many things

yet there’s one thing you never do

you never give up

It’s all luck

Don’t take credit for your success

nor blame others for your failure

always put yourself out there

Try new things

Remember that you can always go home

The kingdom of heaven is within

Remember your religion

You are not other people’s voices in your head

you saved yourself

You,

you did it

It Is You and I Against the World

It’s you and I

Against the world, he says

Teasing me

With a teddy bear

And a bedtime story

I ask him, daddy

Will you ever leave me?

He shakes his head, firmly

Assuring me

Silently, envisioning, his baby girl

His daughter

All grown up, a gladiator

Winning every battle, gloriously

Or a mountaineer

Surmounting Mount Everest, adamantly

He won’t shed a tear

He swears

On the day he leaves

He thinks he’s not meant for here

And maybe it’s just destiny

There are things he should achieve

And his little gladiator, proud mountaineer

Will not dread his departure, he believes

So he swears to not shed a tear

On the day he leaves

his little gladiator will forgive

because she has a heart with heat

that can melt any glacier

he’s coming back today

I still remember

The day he left

How could I ever forget

he’s coming back today

I know, he and I

Are no longer

Against the world together

I am his daughter

His imaginary, little gladiator, proud mountaineer

Who he believes

Can battle dragon

Conquer mother nature

And has no fear

he’s coming back today

greeting the broken pieces on the doorway

I wish I could tell him that

I am neither, father

I am not your gladiator, your mountaineer

And I swear my tears won’t disobey

Inside of my body they shall stay

Until the last day of his departure, once again

I will be his gladiator, his warrior

his mountaineer, his defender

Until the last day of his departure, once again

I am sorry

that in reality

I cannot exceed his expectations of me

I wish I could tell him why

I have the wings but don’t dare to fly

I wish I could explain why

It is love that I choose to defy

he’s coming back today

picking up the broken pieces on the doorway

she wishes her wings to be strong enough

to fly far and high away

so she can look away

leaving all the tears to yesterday

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

Dear Me

Dear Me,

You are the glaring fire soaring upon burnt ashes

You flicker and hover in the air

I hear the hoarse sound of torture you utter

People around you

lit up the very fire that you have become

They watch you burn

Glory goes to the fire

Pretty

Unnoticeable pain

They tell you

how brave you are

There is nothing more beautiful

Than fire so bright in the dark

they see the beauty

Yet you feel the agony

You tried to undo it

To see a path

But in darkness

All you see is darkness

You were made to light up the world

But you feel the scorching heat

that’s burning inside

Melting you down

And you scream so loud

that all you hear is tears

But your tears are invisible,

Almost non-existent

They can’t put down the fire

And no one hears you scream

They just look at you

And tell you how brave and beautiful you are

They keep on saying

There is nothing more beautiful

than fire shining so bright in the dark

I Decided Today

I decided today

that I do not exist

I am merely

an imaginary story

Every person I have ever encountered

is my storyteller

They will tell you

about the woman they see

the way she smiles

The taste of her laughter

Which seems to cover

the agony she tries so hard to hide

They will tell you

About how sweet

and how innocent she is

ask my brother and he

will unravel my inner darkness for you

He will tell you

How lost I am

But baby

I am not lost

I simply

Do not exist

I look at myself from afar

And I see my brother

my father and mother

I see my friends my relatives

And some strangers

Across the streets

At the coffee shop

Bookstores or theater

They see me

But there has never been a me

I am nothing

But their imaginary story

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

Colorful Medicines

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

the purple and pink I take in the morning

are supposed to fix my blue genes

blue genes deep rooted and passed on

from my mother and grandmother

blue genes pushed me into a black hole

blue genes slow down time

a minute feels like a lifelong sentence

blue genes distant me

from everything else I see

sunshine, coffee, love

they are just a metaphor now

a reflection of how drifted away i am

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

the purple and pink I take in the morning

are supposed to fix my blue genes

and they kind of do

purple and pink pull me out of the black hole

allows me to feel the sunshine

smell the coffee

experience love

but purple and pink

cannot take away my thoughts

cannot tell me not to kill myself

cannot tell me I am trying hard enough

cannot tell me I am not my illness

purple and pink

take away the blue

but not the blue mindset

and the blue mindset

is what gives me nightmares

screaming in the dark

bleeding in dreams

the blue mindset is constantly fighting

with other white or golden mindset

and yet always winning

leaving me with exhaustion

because my body is always at war

and hence

panic attacks after panic attacks

so here comes the orange little tablet i take

morning and night

twice a day

and it always comes with yellow

yellow eases the vertigo

and orange numbs my nervous system

so I don’t feel like I am dying that often

purple and pink in the morning

return me my emotions

help me to not be numb and distant again

and yet the orange and yellow

morning and night

twice a day

shut down my body

no anxiety

no emotions again

so the white I take at night

right before bedtime

stops me from thinking

about how scared I am

or how sad I am

or how completely numb my entire body is right now

right now

the white I took

send me to my dreams

to my subconscious where all the horror lives

but at least

I can have a steady eight hours of sleep

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

it is a science lab

chemistries mixing with chemistries

I am always exploding and evaporating

exploding and evaporating

my body is a science lab

the colors I consume

are not a promise of well-being

they do not come with warranties

colors are always colliding with colours

they don’t transform into Van Gogh’s sunflowers

or the starry night

in which pain turns into beauty

and colors come to life

the colors I consume

purple and pink

orange, yellow and white

they are a science experiment with no results

my body is not mine

my body is made of 80 percent medicine

colourful medicines

that should have cured my blue genes by now

my body is not mine

it still belong’s to the blue genes

colourful medicines

purple and pink

orange, yellow and white

science experiments with no results

always contradicting the other

my body is not mine

doctor says I’m going to be fine

but he doesn’t know how long it will take

or exactly how my body will react to them

my body is a science lab

experimenting with colourful medicines

doctor says I’m going to be fine

but he’s not the one taking them