It was like a rocket-ship.
They're both flying because of gravity.
Sharing dreams and future together.
It was like a rocket-ship.
Their love burst into flames.
Approaching into their own galaxy.
It was like a rocket-ship.
And now he is looking up above.
With all those twinkling stars;
As the woman's souls flew away into the sky.
Tears flowing into the man's eyes.
Because he never though;
A rocket-ship made him remember his wife.

I told you “she started not to listen”.
Many people called her but they classified her “as inconsiderate”.
She tried to be quiet in a long time.
Trying to keep her passion alive and her soul intact.
Many people wanted her to be from the untold stories.
But she preferred to make her own identity.
She is the writer of her own life.
Before she said goodnight; Her pen is scribbling some plot twist.
For a long time, she followed another person’s opinion.
Fame and attention were manifest deep down her eyes.
She was a living doll;
But just like a living doll; she was lifeless.
Powerless.
Her own freedom was snatched away from her.
In exchange of validation from others.
So, she walked away from the voices outside the core.
She closed her eyes and listened on her own.
Tears fell down as she is pretty scared to voice out.
As the flame of passion arise,
and that moment she knew “the life ahead of her is going to be tough”
She grabbed her scissors and snipped any unnecessary connections.
And murmured “ I don’t care anymore”.

When I am sad I like to write how I feel as I'm embarrassed to convey what my heart is telling.
And keeping my emotions inside is the best way not to bother other people's lives.
I've learned it the hard way "to acknowledge your own feelings".
I never let sadness, embarrassment and disappointment be in my life.
As I thought being happy always is something right.
When I suppressed my tears never than I thought it ripped myself apart.
And not allowing to feel what I need to feel.
I never understood that other emotions not only happiness are also valid.
And all of these emotions pouring inside my chest should be known in any possible ways that it's making me human.
I've learned that being strong is not only being still.
It means being able to accept the damages inside you and try to fix and learn how to prevent any further circumstances.
Learning from your mistakes and accepting that after all you're still trying no matter how old you are.
You'll never getting closer to perfection;
And perfection is an image that other people's trying to get.
But end-up deceiving each other's eyes, and ruining each other's soul.