What do I need

I leafed through my life,

like old chests of memory,

where every page carries a scent

and every word holds weight.

I was searching for what is true to me,

for what remains when all else falls away.

And yes –

I am ashamed to admit it.

But truthfully,

it was never wealth that mattered,

never numbers, never shine.

There was only one question

I needed answered:

Can you feel me?

If you cannot —

then we do not belong

on the same road.

Not in this lifetime.

Not within my body.

Not in the quiet hours of my nights.

I returned again

to my chests of memory,

and there, between hope and disappointment,

one sentence stood, unadorned:

I have no place

for what is not real.

I have no place

for what lacks tenderness.

And finally,

I stopped apologizing

for knowing this.