As soon as we are born
We’re judged by the size of our bodies
We are told to fit in
So we may as well settle in
But self-doubt is like a declaration of war
Once we adhere to society’s norms
Within our own flesh
Self-doubt creeps in
And strangles self-love in its sleep
There is turmoil beneath my skin
I no longer want a touch of hatred
Upon my flawed skin
I want to love myself
Without feeling delusional
I want to be like wildflowers
They don't care where they grow
And the flowers that I know
In the fields where I grew
Were content to be lost in the crowd
I intend to grow
With or without water
And bloom
With or without sunlight
And raise above cracks of the earth in a sunbeam
I will flourish
In the way
I’ve always supposed to
The wildflower is a figment of my own imagination
I wish I could say that
I am to become one
To have the ability
To grow
Even under the harshest of conditions
Leaving my old self behind
Blooming out of nowhere
In a land far from the madding crowd
But it is never that simple
This is a war I intend on winning
I will not let self-doubt
Limit my potential
And get away with destroying all that I cherish
I will change and so the parts of me
That I lose
Will always find a way to grow back
I may bend and break
But we don’t always heal
Healing requires time, and time is fickle
Pieces of me that were once dismantled
Begins to unite themselves
Inside my skeleton
My failures haunt me from dusk till dawn
Yet I fend them off as often as I can

It’s a trap
I fall unknowingly,
Unwontedly
It comes anytime
An emotional meltdown  
Suddenly I stop breathing
My hands freeze
Face turns hot
Like the blood is boiling
My legs trembling
I close my eyes
And the poison
It comes out in tears
A silent cry
Like an open tap
Like drops of rain
From a heavy tree
And everything freezes
I hear no sound but my heartbeat
I see nothing with my open eyes
All I feel is the wind
Blowing through my hair
The air stuck inside my chest
But I breathe
Slowly but surely
It’s suffocating
Yet I breathe
It’s heartbreaking
And I still breathe

Carpe venum!
Says maitre d'
Like always, I’m alone
Sitting at the bar, sipping wine
Watching people dance
Couples strolling leisurely along
I reach to the port-side
Inhaled my presence
And exhaled my past out

As I look deep into the ocean
The waves whisper to me
Poor lonely ocean or my delusional heart?
Both were longing for forgiveness
Pulling me in
“Don’t fight the current,
I’ll wash away your sins”,
says the ocean

Falling in love, we trusted each other
Like fools in a prison
So deep
It swallowed my heart
And my last breath
Drowning in
cursed the ocean
For it not just broke my trust
But played with the divinity of my heart

This is unforgivable
For thousand years, parts of me
Will curse the passengers boarding
For now it is my home
I’ve thrown away the blues
I’m tired of being used
I can’t let others sail to my heart

This night is cold in the cruise
And I’m not afraid of the storm
My waves of love will forgive
Those yearning
On the port-side

Dear Stranger

I don’t know what you thought of me
When you saw me
But we were somewhere on the same journey
Our shadows followed each other
When we walked by the Vaugirard street
And shared a lifetime of seconds
When we sat
On that park bench
Far from the frenzied crowd
We watched the sky
Under the dark cloud
The salty rain
Tickled our necks
We counted the droplets
Imagined reaching for them,
Like for each other
Black clothes, leather gloves
You’re on the other end of café de flore
Everything feels so intense
You wave at me
I ignore you with a glance
Then the thunderstorm lined our heartbeats
And we fell so much harder
Than we ever had before
And there’s no remedy for memory
Like Lana’s painful poetry
For your gaze
That night
Have struck a match in my head
Igniting a blaze of melody
Melting my soul,
You saw the radiant glow in my eyes
Then walked away like a stranger
Watching me burn
And I’ll never know
Who you were dear ”stranger”
Cause you are just a figment of my imagination
in between lectures
Experimenting how to turn unsatisfying reality
Into this world of imagination;
In Freud’s eyes
pervasive disappointment was indeed inevitable