Standing on my own—
on these two legs,
I finally feel sufficient.
I know how hard it was
to get the attention of others
while asking for help.
The people I knew
gave me shadows inside a home.
Whatever I did,
I had to move through their control.
They dominated me,
showed me ways to survive.
But now—
on my own two legs,
I am complete.
I know the path I chose
is filled with crises and suffering.
Still, suffering feels
like the essence of a flower.
At least I chose
something extraordinary.
I represent myself now.
My two legs are enough
to carry me forward.
The more I need,
the more I go through it alone.
I do not need
to answer everyone’s questions,
nor ask for permission anymore.
My legs help me
not only in work,
but through the weight
of worldly things.
I move things
from here to there
with my own freedom.
Now I walk
through my own shadows.
They do not copy anyone—
neither do I.
I no longer follow
every instruction thrown at me.
I do what remains within my reach,
within my boundary.
My legs never stop.
They never weaken.
Because they have worked,
they are workable
in this world.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 2:18 PM UTC
I've seen a lot
Now name only a few
Walked by the side of river
Drowned from the eyes
Left me from my madness
Now I'm nowhere between the day & night
But only looking at the lunar
Soon all on a sudden
Heard I'm forbidden from it as well
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 3:28 PM UTC
I wish to play forever,
Day and night, knitting dreamily,
from the morning,
making things messy.
We became kingly,
filling out time easily,
just to make my mom angry
and let her fingers on my face,
helping her exercise freely.
My face remains cloudy,
making her face gloomy.
The play never ends,
nor the sportsmen.
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 5:52 AM UTC
Maybe someday
as a dream
a beautiful day will come
and speak to me
Maybe someday
as a dream
a beautiful day will come
and ask me
why my heart feels restless
why my mind keeps wandering in sadness
I will stay listening for a while
standing in a park
hearing a few words
floating gently
as if they are drawing pictures inside me
For many days, I don’t know why
it just feels strange
everything feels strange somehow
why there is this trembling inside my chest
as if someone is calling me softly
as if someone is saying my name
as if someone once called me beloved
why does it feel like this
something was said long ago
now it feels forgotten
suddenly, a strange affection appears
unspoken words rise again
something inside me wakes up quietly
surrounding me
maybe someday
it will all make sense
maybe someday
everything will become clear
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 1:06 PM UTC
It’s a new one now.
I’m drowning from wings to worms,
as I already sense such news
before I even pass through it.
I feel it moving in my blood,
and I don’t let it stop—
as if I have nothing left
to hold onto except this.
I wish I could hold my adventure,
the things I am going through.
The beauty of pain feels eternal,
like it never really fades.
I’ve already tasted the elixir of you,
and bloomed through all the paths
of my life.
But now it seems the path is not easy—
and I am just an owl
preyed upon in the dark.
I am stuck in my own threads,
and even spiders can’t help me now.
And when I needed the scissors most,
to shape my garden,
I was given decades of vanity
and repeated errors.
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 12:31 PM UTC
I hold a broken pencil in my hand,
The lead keeps breaking again and again.
Still I try to write,
Messy lines, no beauty, no style.
I chase many things at once,
Singing, teaching, calling strangers,
Starting everything, finishing nothing.
Always running, always tired.
I speak from my heart so someone may understand me,
But the more I speak, the more I feel lost.
I tried my best to learn my language alone,
No one ever showed me the right path.
This is my first poem,
Not perfect, not beautiful,
Just honest like me. Still, I’m writing.
I won’t stop.
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 3:22 PM UTC