I wish so desperately, every night,
to have a purpose.
I don't mind not figuring out what it is,
I just want to feel that there is
a reason behind my existence.
That I am here for something,
and not only to fill
narrow spaces between people.
Tell me that I am not just a mere filler
to a house of loners.
I want to be more than that.
I don't want to be named after my father,
to be called his daughter,
to be recognized merely as his abandoned child.
I want to be something more.
I want to feel more than this void in my heart.
I want to be something.
I want to be someone.
YOU ARE READING
Hey You, Stranger!
ŞiirSometimes, when things seem to fall down, and when we can't seek help with picking the fallen pieces up, we tend to do it by ourselves in silence. I want for us to cease believing that we are just inconvenience for others. I wrote this book as raw a...
