i wanted to say
please don’t drag my god
into your selfish quest for power.
please don’t turn my god
into a tool to manipulate mind.
but i couldn’t say those things
for my god was no longer my god,
he/she belonged to people who were ready
to accept any lie, any cruelty
to propagate their beliefs and their way of life
to protect their gods (or so they say).
so i had no choice
but to cut myself from this doctrine
of power and numbers.
not to protect my god,
but to protect my mind and myself,
to protect my faith in the endangered humanity
when all i face are the proofs of its non-existence,
when all i find are people who think shaming people
and spilling blood is god’s work.
maybe it is selfish
but i want to remember my god as someone more kinder.
Tag Archives: accept
i wanted to say
When you found my door
I was in my workshop
in the middle of chiseling and crafting my memories
Now I am half made up and half real
and there is no point of opening this door
and forcing you to accept a half that you won’t like.
I can only go as far as my muscle memory takes me.
Since my mind is not here
and I can’t leave this body
that I have never been able to accept as mine.
There is a road that lies in front of me
and there is nothing for me to do
but to walk.
You bring me back to present
and ask me where I have been.
There is a place that I left lifetimes ago,
where I am searching for the reason of my grief.
There is a sun that rises only in the heart of the lost,
there is a mist I live in that you cannot see.
I can stand at any edge and be sure I won’t fall.
I can reach out for any happiness that I am sure I can’t have
and nothing will hurt me more than that.
There are losses that I am counting,
there are bruises I must count as gain only because of love.
Every hope I find
becomes a reminder of something I have already lost.
Can you teach me-
how to go about this life,
how to get rid of this part of me
that can only love the past?
As I say that I am ready to break for you,
I wonder what is this breaking that leaves my mouth every time
I am asked to show what my love is.
Is that all I can do?
Is it what you are to me?
A reason to destroy myself?
I wonder if you ever said that to me
would it sound as poetic as it does to me
when I am the one gets to stand above the everyday trials
and promise to prove my love on a dooms day that might never come.
It is not the distance in time or uncertainty of this promise
that would bother me .
If you ever said what I do,
it would pain me more
to see that your love for me
is a time bomb for your own life.
How do you bear this pain,
that I can’t accept even hypothetically.
Why does it pain like this
to be at the receiving end
of your kindness,
of this smile I have done nothing to deserve?
How can you be the only one
who find me worthy of love,
when I have proved time and again that I am not?
Should I be thankful for your consideration
or should I wait for your patience to run out
before I can accept all you do for me?
How long should I wait
to see if you change your mind?
Don’t you see this distance
I always keep between you and me.
This continuous suspicions
that I have on my fate
and all things that you have never done
but I keep saying that you will.
How long can you listen to me
that you will leave me eventually,
that you will find another.
This anger that I have for the world
seems only to affect you,
for you are the only one who cares.
How long will you be fine
caring for someone like me?
I am not talking about
enhancing my likability here.
But just to be taken seriously
I need to like certain things,
I need to act certain way.
I need to fill forms
whenever I meet someone new,
whenever I meet them again.
Am I capable? Am I an intellectual (of the right kind)?
Am I still childish?
Am I still unable to follow the conversation
that is not spoken in the language I follow?
Am I still reluctant to give up on all the things
that are no longer relevant.
Am I now ready to listen and only listen
to take in
the version of a world that is more widely accepted.
Am I finally aligned with the opinions, interests
and common hatred that bonds us?
Have I grown weak and weary
of the silence that I am put through?
Have I realized what I could do, whom all I can befriend
if I break myself in image of my oppressor?
How my feelings turn into a joke
in your hands.
How I have laugh
at the sight of this
and accept it as something normal.
Is this my punishment?
For pushing away people,
who really cared,
who looked for me every time I left.
But maybe they could do that
only because they never knew me.
But you know me too much.
Every dialogue with you
makes me realize, makes me see
another part of me
that I need to cut away
to become worthy of your love.