i am surrounded by mirrors
i look different in each one
every time i glance at a reflection
i morph into something else entirely.
and a stranger stares back.

in one i'm too short.
too short to hold onto my father's hand
i reach and reach
scream and cry
but i go unnoticed.
and a gaping hole forms in my heart.
a hole i try to fill with substances, people and emotions-
but none of them fit.  

in the second i am too fat,
tummy bulges out, and thighs rub together.
my arms are too flabby.
in the background is my mother,
staring at my body with disdainful eyes.
those eyes burn a hole in my chest,
one i that i think starvation will fill,
instead food became my best friend in that reality,
and my mother, a stranger.

in the third hard eyes glare back at me.
a girl who's been so unloved she becomes silent.
this reflection petrifies me,
for this girl is angry and cruel.
her excellence is used against her.
she has been shunned and left behind,
with nothing but her writing to find.

finally, in the last there's droopy eyes.
and that's all that's there,
droopy eyes, smudges on the glass, and someone else's fingerprints.
which reality is mine?

who do i believe?
the version that cries?
the one that lies?
the one they clap for,
or the one that watches from behind?

My inner child died in silence—
rotting deep inside.

I burned him with my own fire,
a desperate, hopeless blaze.

Music weeps a funeral song,
while my mind crashes in flames.

I am empty now—
a hollow shell,
broken beyond repair.

It’s a miracle that I’m still around
After I lost my skin
And walked all over Tehran’s streets,
Absorbing all the noise and pollution
Directly into every little muscle and bone.

It’s a miracle that I still love—
Even if very selectively,
And surgically cautious.
Even if from a distance,
From my carefully curated living space
Where only music, art, and fashion are allowed,
With no pre-screening and constant monitoring for letdown and betrayal.

It’s a miracle that I still smile—
Even though, if you look closely
At the corner of my mouth,
You would notice a trace of unbreakable sadness.
That’s why, when I feel too deep,
I look away.

There was a time, when I was younger,
When I loved so freely,
So carelessly,
So curiously—
But I got pushed and pulled,
Hurt and burnt
Beyond the point of my breaking.

You cannot see it,
But my soul carries all those wounds
And burn marks on her skin.
And she carries them
Like a badge of honor.

Because it’s a miracle that I still breathe.
And it’s a miracle
That I kept my dreams.

Mud cakes, sand castles, dress ups and... Make-believe;
Child-like curiosity, awe, wonder and...
Other-world conceive.
Silence, in a busy grownups world gives opportunity for playfulness you can retrieve,
Embrace these moments, seek them out, faith like a mustard seed, oak trees sprout.

What have I done?
On my quest to gain power,
I killed someone,
Someone dear to me,
And not just one,
But multiple people that existed only in me
Died with my act,
An unforgivable one.
The setting sun
Unleashes it's red glow
Further highlighting the blood on my hands
The wind howls, mourning;
A trait I have forever lost

I look back back to my villa
An haven big enough to feed the world
To fulfil every and all desire and needs
Forever keeping them happy
But to me, it's a monument to what I did
It will never fulfil my one desire.

I wish mother was here
I still remember the last time I saw her
She was smiling, that genuine smile I've always loved
Even as her body deteriorate
I worked so hard to save her
But I failed.
Now, this is the only memory of her that's left,
The rest died with him,
That happy child,
So full of wonder, curiosity,
Knew what it meant to live in the moment
To be genuinely happy,
To genuinely love and care for others without thinking of ulterior motives
To.....to......to just....be
But I will never feel that again

On my quest to be independent
To grow up
To be for me and me alone
What was nurtured in me for years
All the memories and emotions engraved within them
Gone, in the blink of an eye

A stand here amidst the haven I built to be my happiness
But all it does is remind me of my state
Dead, cold, and unfeeling
Forever cursed to be soulless
A cold unfeeling monster

I see you—
Wild heart, tender thing
I see your earnest,
Your glitter visions, your radical hope.
I see you move with a twist in your heel,
A waltz between worry and courage,
A bold ballet of dreams.
I see your little visions, your treasure troves.
I see you,
Softened one,
Stitching these words to your heart,
Drawing the sun on our wings,
Innocent and radiant as ever.
I see you.

With love,

Butterfly