Tag: poetry

Lost Exposure: Unmasking the Ego Within

July 11th, 2025

You call my name- and all I hear are the waves that crashed down on me over and over again.

And it’s different now, I know it. I know your intentions were always pure, but every time you hug me, every time you try to call my name, I can’t hear you

I won’t hear you.

Our ego loves to tell us that we are in the right

Our ego loves to lie to us that we have no ego- when in reality all we do is hide.

We dance with it; we sing to it.

“No, Ill let my ego down and I will let you win this fight, but now I am going to distance myself from you.”

“No ill let my ego down, but I will keep quiet on everything you do that bothers me, until eventually I will explode on you- with all my anger and blame you for problems that aren’t even related to you.”

I wish I could forgive you. I thought I did. But everything you do to protect me pushes me back ten steps, and when you don’t give me my space I feel like I have gone back to the past where I could barley breathe from you pushing me into the water, and all I want to do is hug you and tell you that I love you, but instead I close the door in my room and not let out a single word because it’s the easiest thing to do.

-welcome to the blame game.

Our ego is a shield- and it is our weakness.

It is unspoken pain and hurt that turns into war with the people we love.

It is a mask that shields our eyes from everything good a person has done, so that we can focus on being right when the situation gets rough.

Perspective: ego is worse than jealousy. Ego will break apart everything good in your life. You don’t always have to be right. But the reason we so desperately want to be right is so that we can be seen- a part of us were also hurt and kept quiet.

We cant expect people to understand our pain, and we cant expect them to guess when something they did hurt us.

And when someone finally lashes out, they only see their side- but they don’t see that the other person has also been waiting to let it out.

***

I have been thinking a lot about us recently. I kept blaming you- but I didn’t tell you what hurt me. You lash out on me was because you didn’t see the other side, I didn’t let you see the other side. My ego was so high every time I said sorry, I didn’t mean it- but you were being vulnerable with me, and I was hiding in my shell not letting out a single word. You didn’t know that the things you were doing to me hurt me. I tried to live in silence in a house that wanted me to present, and I couldn’t voice to you that it’s just not who I am.

I tried to stay out of your way, and I tried to read you without opening the book.

My ego is right here, in front of your eyes.

It is with all my written words and pain about people that have up and left my life- only written by my side.

And who am I to share with you my knowledge when half of it was run by ego? Is my capability to be aware of my actions enough if I am still making mistakes?

We are consumers at the end of the day- we can read full articles that are written by AI without even noticing.

Constantly being fooled by the media!

– tik tok girls that promote health until the camera stops rolling.

Models wither, starving to mirror their own airbrushed reflections—silently fading, sacrificed on the altar of ego.

And who are we to judge?

We are all a byproduct of this synthetic society. We are all consumed by fake organic products, health gummies, and intense workouts so that we can be part of the ‘ideal’ people.

Our mind is programmed that way- because that’s all we see. Going off socials is not enough to end this problem- and perspective I am tired of it.

But i am my ego PERSPECTIVE.

and you are too.
Fear, Approval, and the Shadows We Hide Behind

June 9th, 2025

Our fear is wrapped around hurting our loved ones.

We hide behind the shadows of our idols and when we need to make decisions- we ask ourselves

“would they approve?”

Fear has an interesting way of controlling the mind. We believe that if we feel fear we need to run away from it- but what do we gain from it?

What we fear will come back to us until we eventually face it- and then it becomes another regular object that passes us by.

And why do we care so much about approval when we are the deciders.

And why would we pass up an opportunity that we have been dreaming of our whole lives to satisfy a society that anyways isn’t consistent?

Sometimes- we disappoint the people we love.

Sometimes what we want and who we are no longer aligns or has never aligned with their beliefs.

And you feel as if you failed- because you couldn’t satisfy. But the truth to it all- is that running away from fear means disappointing ourselves.

There is no winning- there is no losing.

The ones who truly love you will stay and eventually accept your decision-even if they will never understand.

And the ones who don’t- are people you don’t need in your life anyways.

Fear is an invitation- and disappointment is part of decision making. The question is, do you want to live a life you want or will you stay hidden behind shadows that you eventually outgrow?

-perspective
When the Moon Yawns.

May 27th, 2025
she used to stay up at night. Looking at her phone she sees no one was looking for her. Is she alone or is she addicted to the machine that became her lifeline-

Wake up she tells herself, it’s 3 in the morning why would she feel the urge to open her eyes so early.

If she looked out her window maybe she could see the moon yawning and the night illuminating a sidewalk that she walks past everyday yet never truly sees.

Now it’s 15 in the afternoon and she’s asleep. Her mind is trapped in a cycle of living in a dream- and disintegrating in the daytime.

Are we really living if we hate every part of it?

She wakes up- already waiting for the day to end

yet she has plans to conquer the world- but when she seee her phone empty she coincides with the power box and the life she so hopefully wants to conquer goes into the depth of empty promises and worn out shoes that has no more room to walk in.

She wants to yell- she’s tired of meeting with the moon every night, she became an absolute stranger to the sun, she wonders if she can ever get out of this loop and if it’s hopeless.

She’s lost everything when all she did was hold onto it.

Maybe if she let go- maybe if she took care of herself- maybe maybe maybe.

maybe?

the voices of the unheard
Perspective.
You Don’t Have to Escape to Heal: A Mental Health Journey in the Dark

April 23rd, 2025

when the stars are out and you put your headphones on, what do you think about?

Are you able to escape your reality just for a second, or do you feel as if the world is collapsing, and you are the cause of it?

And why is it that when you go home at the end of a beautiful day, you lay still on your bed and cry for hours, just to wake up and start the day all over again?

And you tell yourself: this day is too much for me, and you feel as if no one truly knows you.

Perspective is about understanding that the days when we fall apart, the days when sadness takes over, and our body feels the weight of a million stones- is the reason we can truly feel happiness.

Today is too much for me. All I want to do is crawl into my bed and not see or talk to anyone. I want to forget my existence today; I want to run away. I sometimes think about creating a new identity- where I move to another foreign place that I have no knowledge of and become a stranger all over again. To forget every bad thing that happened to me, and to fall asleep peacefully when the stars come out.

To evolve is constantly meeting yourself over and over again- it is a loop that no one will ever be able to get out of, and the faster you realize this- that you cannot fight the change, the weight of the world will no longer be on your shoulders.

Today I woke up with tears in my eyes, and all I wanted to do was write.

You don’t need to escape your pain- because it will stay exactly where it is until you decide to let it out.

No matter how much you try to run away, it will be waiting for you in the softness of your pillow, in the hot showers you so desperately crave, and the silence when the room becomes quiet. You are attached to your heart- and you are the only person who can sooth it.

So, How did I learn to not run away from my pain (even when I really want to).

I let it out- because we have no choice but to feel it all.

I walk around with my heart completely open

as if I have a big open scar with light shining out of it.

And do you know the beautiful thing about healing? You’re the only one who truly knows what you need to heal from. But when you start facing your pain and your scars are exposed, the world feels it—and that’s when you begin to attract good things.

I may not be the most perfect girl in the world. And my journey with my mental health is a work in progress. But when I opened my heart to the world, the good, the bad, it let me in. The world was never against you, you just needed to learn to live alongside it- and to stop fighting change.

And maybe then, you’ll take your headphones off, feel the quiet rhythm of your heart beating—and for once, not be afraid of it.
Embracing Change: When Letting Go is Necessary

April 21st, 2025

A quiet shift.

We outgrew each other. There are no heroes, no villains—just change.

In the darkness of Seattle, you all were my sun.
When my life was unraveling, you pulled me back in.
You brought light where I felt nothing but gray.
You left flowers on my doorstep, sent voice notes late at night, reminded me I wasn’t alone.
You gave me a version of family I didn’t know I was craving.

You were the realest thing I had.
You were the sun to my storm.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.
Not overnight—but slowly. Quietly.
Inside jokes started to fade. Plans became fewer. My name stopped showing up in the group chat.
And I started wondering if maybe we weren’t growing apart—maybe we had already grown, just in different directions.

I don’t hate you. I never could.
But I also can’t pretend we’re still who we were.
And maybe that’s okay.

Ever since I moved to the middle east, I still see you all in the reflections of the wandering streets, and certain music that brings me back to the rain.

I remember every piece of you, and when I look into the eyes of the people closest to me, I search for you. my friends- who once gave me their whole world.

If I could send you a dozen roses to your doorsteps, and be present I would. But change is inevitable, and it is bigger than us

and maybe that’s okay too..

When Distance is The Right Choice

Eventually, when it hurts too much to call-or you notice that you have no urge to text them back, letting go is the only choice you’ve got. Outgrowing people you love is never easy but it shows us that the earth is still spinning- and you are evolving alongside it

And I will never forget the seeds they planted in me—
the ones that helped me bloom
into the flower that I have become now, but the sun shifted and It is too dangerous to go back into your light.

when distance is the right choice, you learn to walk away.

When it is the right choice, you must listen to your heart when your mind is screaming at you to stay.

So I may not text you back

and I may no longer come around,

but I promise you I’m not hating you,

I’m healing myself.

-Perspective How do you let go?
Maybe We All Just Need an Early Night: On Healing, Loss, and Perspective

April 16th, 2025

Hi perspective. Its been a while. How have you been?

I have been distant from my writing for a while. I sat hours in front of my computer just to erase words that felt ‘used’ or ‘mundane’, but in reality, I just needed an early night.

Finishing the army was like breathing again for the first time in two years, but the light has vanished and the uniform is still imprinted on my body. flashbacks. I still look for you that night, and I still wake up to the sounds of your cries, and each time I try to comfort you but you slip away from my hands over and over again.

Or maybe I just need an early night.

It’s so easy to lose ourselves. We chase change, believing it’s what we need, even when we’re already enough just as we are. But that chase becomes addictive — a quiet drug that keeps us moving, searching. And then one day, you notice your bed feels empty, the lamp looks strange, and suddenly, you realize you’ve lost more of yourself than you ever intended to give away.

Maybe I am not built for an early night.

I woke up from the sirens in my dreams, and your hand that I was unable to hold. I woke up from the gun that was raised in the air, and my heart that couldn’t keep up, and I am in search for you everywhere.

You looked me in the eyes and you told me that you could never trust me.

I was holding the whole world for you and you had no idea.

You can be in so much pain. You can hurt — deeply. But pain has a way of distorting your lens, warping your view of the people around you. It reshapes them into things they’re not, casting shadows where there were none. And sometimes, it’s not them changing — it’s the glasses you’re wearing.

***********

I want an early night with you.

Not the kind filled with noises and distractions-

Just us.

I want the warmth in my bed to come back,

a warmth not just from the feel of your body but from your soul,

and how the world and all its problems gets smaller.

And the stillness of your hands around my body, a peace for my insomnia.

but perspective: maybe we all need an early night.
one unread message.

March 25th, 2025

An internal battle is a sword that doesn’t dull

i want to hold your hand- but you’re so far away.

How do you know if your family loves you when you were at your lowest and they stayed silent? when the beast came out you froze, but when the war was over you remembered my name.

We shared a room,

We shared a life.

You saw me when I was drowning- could you not lend a life?

You were a product of a creator that destroys, you run the same blood as me and yet we don’t see eye to eye.

I want to love you, but where were you when i needed love?

We haven’t spoken in a year, You’re getting married soon.

I am a visitor in your life- Family doesn’t leave their sister to fade into the misery of their pain: The truth.

perspective can you hear me?

perspective are you my family?

i am standing in a crowded room, looking for you. When the flashbacks hit me, all i see is me in search of my big sister who was supposed to meet me on the other side.

I searched for you day and night-

Yelling your name so loud in every corner that you could have been hiding.

Holding on to a memory of a sister I once had, before the trauma, and cussed the world for making me so broken that even my oldest sister didn’t want me anymore.

You ask me what it means to build a home, But do you really know what home means?

When there is a roof over your head, and your room is sound proof.

It takes more than screws and a hammer to build a home.

You can have expectations but nothing is set in stone. You must learn to accept before you give, and when you see a room with the lights off you bring a candle. To build a home you need to be attentive. A room is never soundproof, and when the night eventually comes you have to turn on the lights.

until one day you hear a knock on your door

*knock knock*

no answer.

but it’s too late

she already left

———————————————————

Perspective?

Yes Shira

are you there?

I’m wide awake.

(an unfinished story)
When the Mirror Doesn’t Speak.

March 4th, 2025

I am mistaken by the world for a girl who loves to party.

But in reality. I just want to close my eyes and forget that the world exists.

I wear a million masks- and the only place I am truly myself is within words that never fall into the right hands.

Our body remembers the heat of the day, or the cold. It shadows crowded pathways, and familiar places that no matter how much your mind has blacked out, your body remembers.

No one talks about it enough,

or maybe we are all silent writers hoping to be heard by the right people.

If you ask me what I dream of, Id tell you I dream about love, constantly.

Love that exists through words, and memories, and loyalty.

Love that sees through me, that wants to heal me.

Love that lasts.

Maybe that is everyone’s dream. But I think about it everyday, because not a lot of people see me for me.

I walk around with tired eyes.

Eyes that from a first glance tells a story of a million traumas and fears.

I wonder what people think when they see my eyes- I wonder if one day Ill meet someone with the same eyes as me.

****

I’ve had a million arguments with you.

I yelled at you, I called you ugly, I didn’t feed you, I didn’t care for you

I let you get unhealthy, I let you fall apart a million times

but you were the only person that was there for me.

-My reflection in the mirror.

We mistreat ourselves but we forget that we are the soul attached to the body.

How did I blame myself for getting raped? I was 14 years old.

Why do I blame myself for falling into meaningless relationships- and endless hookups, when in reality, was the only way I could get control back after the rape.

Yet I look at myself in the mirror, and I hate that I dont know what love is- or how to accept love, but when I cried for help no one was there.

-the girl in the mirror is crying because she saved you- and you dont see it.

Our mind knows when to run away, when to freeze, or when to shut down.

I know you tried to fight, and your body lied still.

I know you tried to scream and nothing came out.

But you were just 14, and before that, you were just 13.

and yet I still dream about love.

That one day- Someone will meet me through my writing, through my words, and through my eyes

and understand that I am real, I am here.

-another entry of an unfinished thought.

sincerely,

perspective.
The Art of Destruction

December 3rd, 2024

She notices that her cup is filled just enough to get her drunk, yet her thoughts already filled the glass. You see, that is the art of destruction. Everything that comes into your life ends up hurting you, or you hurt it, there is no in between, no balance. When I was 5 years old, looking at the stars I asked myself

“is this temporary?”

but unfortunately, it all began to be temporary.

“Temporary love, Temporary feelings, Temporary hugs. I learned to let you go before you actually let go- says destruction

And I notice myself swaying in my room, accompanied by the shadows of yet another faded relationship, and the wine glass that now appears to be empty is the only thing holding me together.

I always wished to be a poet. To which I can write my words, just so you can feel them. Writing has been the only staple in my life, and it always finds its way back to me.

And it takes me back to that girl on the bench- at two am. It snowed that day, and all she wore was a cocktail dress, and headphones that were hidden in between her fallen, brown curly hair. She looked so fragile, yet she seemed unfazed by the cold. The art of destruction- you feel the world burning down- forgetting how to live in it. You live your life in slow motion, waking up by the alarms ringing beside your ears, and just like a machine you go to work. Or you dont. Its a loop that eats you alive. A nightmare that you cant get out of.

And then the sun goes down, and you begin to feel. Your heart starts beating again, you become awake- because you finally synced up with the world. Because everyone has gone to sleep, or are indulging in whatever addiction they have, and you gained a sense of quietness that only your heart can feel. Because at two am, when the world has gone to sleep, there is nothing that can hurt you. Or maybe this whole time, when you take the headphones off, you notice that its you sitting on that bench at 2 am

perspective asks, are you awake?

and I reply,

not yet.

-from my empty glass of wine
Rainy in Seattle

October 4th, 2024

Why is it so sad?

To me- when I pick up my pen and paper I am to be revealed of all my truths. I have lived a sad life- and I cant seem to get out of it. My pen and paper is in replace of a mask that barley fits my face, and so I let myself express to you my pain, because we all deep down feel the shame.

I used to write all day about how I hated when the sun went away. I would cry for hours about how my days were filled with grey clouds that were only to be accompanied by the raindrops that would fall shortly after. But when the night came, and it was time to sleep, the sound and smell of the rain was the only thing that could calm me down.

The rain was the only sound louder than my mind, and no matter how much I hated you, you were the only thing that gave me peace.

and then I left you.

I left my home, I left my room my bed, my dog, I left my life. and no matter how much I hated every part of it, It was the only thing that gave me peace, because I always had something to lean on, something to quiet down the noise and the thoughts in my head.

And you say im brave

You say that Im strong

but inside, I feel a million knives in my back. by you.

Because I didn’t have a choice, and you continued to blame me for the way you raised me. You gave me a roof and food over my head, but you never let me explore the things I loved. You never looked at me as an individual, you looked at me like a walking diploma. You saw me come home from school everyday in tears, only to come home to more.

I am not brave. I just gave up my peace so that I can give up a little bit of my pain.

I want to forgive you, but how can I forgive you when the only person I needed the most was you, and you weren’t there. You let me stay in the puddle of my tears, and the rain was the only thing that could wash it away.

My heart aches because I know that I can never come back home, because a life back with you is giving up the freedom that I built for myself. I am not brave, I am just trying to get my life back

So, why does is it have to be sad?

perspective,