The velvet part of me
is my enemy.
My tears are inexpensive;
I cried at littlest things.
I cried listening to slow songs
I cried watching indie movies,
sometimes cartoon.
I too cried reading novels
and
I cried when people left.
I wish I wasn't fragile
as butterfly's wings.
I wish I don't stay on the ground; to not feel too much
but high on the cloud nine; to feel less.