Don’t Be Robbed

I haven’t changed. I’m still that weak miserable glass which can’t hold its water. But I haven’t changed. I still believe that being weak is not weakness and being miserable is not misery. They’re something that makes you human, something that makes you capable of appreciating the gifts of sentimentality, of gratitude, of warmth. They’re something that protects you from being robbed of the joy of living and being. They mean you’re strong–strong enough to fight holding back as if tears were a heinous crime against humanity. They release you from the trap of contexts and expertise. Sometimes, most of the time, you shouldn’t be imprisoning your soul just to look composed. The more composed people are those that can be true, those that pour sincere water. Do not mind people’s limited perceptions. Often, their tears are salt.

I’ve found entrances and exits

I’ve found entrances and exits
in this room without light
and seen ceilings and floors
fall away in the night
I’ve started and stopped
whenever I lost sight
of the beauty and the flaws
which make all wrongs right

I’ve owned and disowned
perceptions of a love
biased and unbiased
a fool would’ve had
I’ve hoped and despaired
untying fate’s knot
lying then believing
legitimacy of a fad

But lifting my head free and restricted
I open the doors and life’s digression
then whether they’ve been entered or exited
is now a matter of my steps’ direction

And I want to walk into the sun
I want to believe in what’s been none
I command distance to be my bridge
I ask music the wildest pitch
I summon all doubts to challenge my wishes
I called so softly, assured it reaches
the happiest place I’ve longed to see
beyond those gates where I was never me

I smile and cry
in this journey I’m granted
Doubting and wishing
Possibilities aren’t murdered
Forward and forward
Chasing what I’ve missed
Holding on to stars
Knowing they forever exist