Through the window of her own self

Looking at life through a lens of rejection, expecting it at every turn.

"Grieve not" A poem by Haseeb

Skepticism has been her life, and it looks like it will be a nightmare, or maybe a little treasure, until the end. Can't she look at a different direction? So many different persons, or many different things that she can't help it but try to discover each one of them: an expedition into herself. But the more she tries, the more it seems to be farther away. The only vision she gets is a glimpse through a dusty window with pictures of her soul flying away. Two forces pulling into different directions. Each one seems to be stronger, that way they are always even, always on the same place. A triangle within other triangles. An illusion formed by mirrors inside her own eyes.


A gift!?! Who said it is a gift? It made her become a dormant monster who deserves nothing  and nobody.


She builds walls around herself to keep others at bay -- walls of perfectionism, achievement and self-sufficiency. What she wants and needs most, she often resists. She is  master at keeping that vulnerable place within herself concealed... beneath the surface there is depression, rage, confusion about identity, fear of loss, and shame. If she doesn't grieve her loss, the ability to receive love or attach emotionally in meaningful relationships may be seriously hindered. 


How should she grieve??