I may have a problem
that you don’t see
Self-doubt and self-hatred
but you all disagree
Because you say you see
the positivity in me
But what you don’t know
behind these marks
is a smile rotated upside down
Scars in my skin
hidden behind my clothes
All these things happened to me
Yet I can say, things get better
I may be the only one to see it
But I don’t need to show
That I am feeling better
I am getting better
A unique face we always carry
But frequently tired to see its beauty
“I’m ugly”, I say to the mirror
But when will I say I’m enough and beautiful,
Even though every flaw is visible?
Is the mirror not tired
of every frown?
Is it a tool for us to see our faults
and hate ourselves?
Or is it an object for us to realize our blemishes
but still be delighted
with the imperfections?
I wish to avoid the words I repeat in front of it
Can we stay like this for the whole night?
We won’t be thinking of anything,
But the warmth we share together
As your arms around my body
Ready to break the bones inside me
As mine around yours
Ready to calm your racing heart
deep breaths, just deep breaths
until you hear nothing but
small water droplets
I’ve got a red thread
and a needle
Picked up these shards
from the floor
Shaped the puzzle to create
the desired form
I’ll try different knots
to make it beautiful
Even though it will never feel the same
I hope it still looks like the shape of
My whole heart before
You are my company
Every night
If loneliness is on my side
But you are also my enemy
in productivity
Hindering all my energy
To do something I want
Solely
We met a while ago as my enemy
Let’s meet again later night
as my friend
Purely missing your presence,
It is morning, again
I need to wake up
I need to get up
I am back,
but I still lack
Something, something
I’ve always wanted
I’m too scared, again
To face the sunshine
To look in the sky
For I expect
That this weather will provide me
Nothing, nothing
As it always did
Stop worrying to
meet expectations; take small
steps to reach your goal
The ceiling hasn’t been a help for me
It paints the memories
I can’t let go of
Colorful, yet disturbing
Wondering if I didn’t waste the chance,
If I didn’t wait to regret
Was it beautiful?
I can’t respond
After a lot of ticktocks
On that annoying clock
I’m grateful, they vanish
But new ones appear
daydreams I long,
warmth and bliss for tomorrow
They will never happen
And will remain fantasies
I’m used to these paintings
On the same ceiling every night
Am I supposed to live in a broken past
And an unreal future?
No one’s wrapping their presents for me.
It’s not the anxiety that’s deadly
It’s the overthinking that lingers
Inside your brain,
Slowly devouring the sanity
And consuming the dignity
That have been hardly built for one’s self
What a pity,
I wish we can remove it entirely
Burning Poems 