I thought vulnerability was for the weak.
Even when I let you inside my thoughts
I've had both hands on your steering wheel.
I swerve hard left turns on the difficult memories,
dodging the on coming traffic of blatant truths.
My minds is a pile up on intestate 98
but I have you on the detour route
to Mr. Nice Guy lane on the road of "life is okay".
The next stop is "I am happy" street on the corner
of "you will be all right" avenue and "I don't care" lane.
But these fabricated roads are painted over signs
that trick you into believing that I am truly "fine".
But all the cars have crashed and burned
and now you know the truth.

Remember me fondly,
or not at all.

you always ask why i always stay in my room, in that voice that always made me feel small and vulnerable — the one that always made me feel like a five-year-old girl wishing that the blankets and the stars will hush the thunders.

you always ask why, dad, and yet you always find ways to hurt me the moment i come out of this four-walled shell, ashen and gray from all the storm clouds circling over my head. you always find ways to spot the cracks on my skin, like i was just another wall in this crumbling house. you always find ways lasso your words around my throat — tighter and tighter, i can no longer breathe. you always find ways to unhinge my mind; to unbottle all the tears and all the loose pieces of my heart hastily stitched out of place.

dad, i am caught in a trojan war brewed by my demons, and you are paris, piercing all of my achilles heels; stitched; tender; still healing from all the poisoned arrows you shoot — a year ago. two years ago. three. four. and for years and years, you always find ways to crush me, like the cans of your empty beer. you always find ways to crack and snap this bent framework; my bones are broken from the weight of your words. you always find ways to hurt me and hurt me and hurt me and hurt me again — like i was never the little girl you played dolls and cooking sets with; like i was never the little girl you watched disney movies with. like i was never the little girl you used to love — dad, i am still she, now trapped in the body of an adult. i am still she, now trapped in the prison of a dusty room you unknowingly co-erected. and i guess i'll stay right here where i'm trapped, but safe. i guess i'll stay right here where the voices only come from my demons.

i'll stay right here where you can't see me.

i'll stay right here where i'm not hurt.

What a laugh!
I looked in her eyes
and saw that she was broken.
No one in this world
ever gets enough love.
We bleed our feelings
and silently beg others for help,
but no one ever comes.
Or if they do,
we smile and nod
and bandage our wounds ourselves,
afraid to be vulnerable,
afraid to be human,
afraid to give others the love we so crave.

O' my transparent magical sphere
I am aware of your capabilities

I always regard your truthfulness
I bow before you once again

I also bow before the angel
Who gave me, you as a gift

Again I am here with a question
Please let me know the answer

Don't feel any pressure or fear
You are always my near and dear

Don’t hesitate anymore
Just speak the truth, only truth

My question is plain and straight
But still it is not that simple

The question is mind boggling
The question is very troubling

"Which is the most valuable
Which is the most vulnerable

Which is the fastest growing
Which is the fastest moving

Which is the most popular
Which is the most wanted

And which is the most insecure thing
In this modern mundane world"

All of sudden the sphere turned opaque
Then changed its colour in red and blue

Later it was filled with ***** smoke
Quickly replaced by white-white clouds

And then I figured, A word inscribed
What I saw, was a single word – "DATA"

I thanked my transparent magical sphere
I thanked the angel who gave me this gift

I bowed down with respect and regard
Returned with that single word answer

I assessed, analysed and concluded
Once again the magical sphere was true

At the risk of being vulnerable
How do I tell you how I feel?
At the risk of being vulnerable
How do I tell you I still need you here?
I’ve spent my whole life without you
Yet the thought of a day without you now
Leaves me haunted in my messy mind