Funny how tears fall sometimes—
uninvited, unexplained,
without any reason or rhyme.

Our minds, so overwhelmed with emotion,
as soon as we feel any sort of devotion,
any sort of desperation,
any sort of euphoria,
any sort of nostalgia.

Funny how we see crying
as only a representation of melancholy and misery,
when in truth, it encapsulates all the seasons—
from our sun-kissed days to the pale winter’s moon—
and makes us feel oh so much.
Makes us feel everything.
Makes us feel human.

An emotion or an illusion?
When you think, you are.
When you want, you can.
When you don’t—can you?

A state or a fate?
Do you decide it, or not?
Is it in your mind,
or beyond thought?

Is it materialism or a bond,
a lasting memory of years along—
a friendship, a relation, an achievement,
or nature’s quiet appreciation?

Is it real, or is it fake?
Something defined, or something I make?
A gaze into eyes,
or a stare at the stars?

If it is peace,
does it shine in the night sky?

Is it beautiful, or merely calming?
Cool or exciting—does it differ for all?
A claim to most,
or the worst of all?
Found in small things,
or in things that are not?

A sip of coffee in the cold,
or a cool breeze in summer’s warmth?
Is it in birth, or in death?

Up until now, more or less,
if I am in confusion,
so are you.
Asking yourself—
What is happiness?

I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now.
And though I love it here,
the faucet leaks,
the door doesn’t shut right
sometimes I have to hold a hand to it
just to lock it back.

When you drink, the space between your ribs
tightens, and your liver expands.

The neighbors aren’t so bad.
They keep to themselves.
When they see me, we talk about
how high the rent is,
how much we don’t get in return for the association fees,
how often we wake up to notices on our door
about late payments
always knocking like the police.

For this reason, I don’t attend any of the meetings.
But I don’t want to leave.

I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now
long enough to sleep through the creaks
when it settles,
long enough to know that home is where my heart is.

Forever isn’t a day here.
It stretches into the way you snore
when you think no one is listening
probably my favorite sound

Decided to become that version—
Heartless. Ruthless.
No place for love.

No emotions dictating,
Only silence, always calculating.
No chances taken,
Nothing to hurt, no pain to endure.

But then it dawned—
Even this was emotion dictating.
Just a bargain with time,
To postpone the pain.

No one is invulnerable.
No one is unstoppable.
No one can escape,
When love decides to pay a visit.

No one can escape
The joy that it brings,
And the dreaded pain that follows

"Today I woke up like every morning,
the sea sounds angry at my window,
today I woke up longing to be loved.
But the wind only whispers emptiness,
and the waves embrace me with their cold.
Is love just a lost echo,
or a ship that has never sailed?"

People say i'm insightful.
when I hear the word and find the interrelation between it and I,
I'm placed back in a room with emotions coating
the surface of the walls.
Each corner is covered in passion.
I'm surrounded by all the things I've swallowed down,
they have returned to choke out of me.
The outside world does not know who I am, they cannot reach me.
I can barely reach myself.
No one came to save me and that drove me mad.
I lost my mind in that room.
I forgot how to breathe, I forgot what I was made of.
More unintelligible than articulate.
I lost so many pieces of my mind, I ate at the passion coated walls.
I got lost in the spirals of my own finger tips
I had sat within myself instead of the emotion sealed room.
Would you understand if I said that the parts of me that die still stay with me?
You use the word insightful.
I know myself so well that I see myself in others
and if I see repetition I fix it.
In his addiction I see connection
In her depression I see expression.
I connect with all of you because part of you was once me.
So insightful maybe.
Maybe I drove myself mad for a reason.
To lose my mind, find my soul.
Connection is a privilege, your experience is a process, to grow from it is a gift.

I never ate my emotions
I starved them
That's also an
Emotional Disorder

"I wonder", asked one
"Why do you wear that watch
The one that doesn't even run"
"Why not repair it?" wondered another
"I wonder,
Why even bother with an analog?", asked another
"I will do one better”, said another
Why wear one at all when you have a phone?"
They all wondered
And left

But here I am
I wonder too,
Why do I wear a mask outside?
Hiding the pain inside
Why can't I let go?
Even though I must
Why am I stuck in time, just as my watch?

I wonder too

I walk through life,
sighing.

I am with you,
I sigh.

I eat and sigh.

Releasing energies,
held-back emotions,
frustration or longing.

Could it be that you valued me in every moment,
and in bed, you desired me?

Could it be that you listened to me,
without judging?

Could it be that you inspired me,
without challenging me?

Could it be that I was drawn to your being,
to your values?

Could it be that you respected
and loved my darkness?
Could it be that you gave me peace,
or could it be that I have fallen in love?