XXLove letters

 

 

When only your lines are missing,

 

The telephone is ringing,

It doesn’t fill the void,

It doesn’t disturb heart beating,

I need one minute and twenty five seconds,

To reassure myself,

To realize that I don’t have a heart,

In the place of a heart I have a huge clot,

Pain is the best sower,

 

I made a decision brimming with words snobs,

Ten months and five days ago,

A few passing out throbs,

My selfish side slapped me across the face,

We were one part of the plot,

Pride can be crystal meth,

My eyes brimmed with fearful tears,

 

It is the rightest decision I’ve ever made in my life,

I decided to say ‘no’,

I decided to move on,

 To regret, to forbid, to end and to start,

Not to mention that we loved each other,

If we could call it love,

I decided to be reborn and to grow,

 

I put a key into the lock,

My cold place has been waiting,

Thank you for your present,

It doesn’t talk,

Buds have been looking down,

I take a bouquet,

Flowers are never guilty,

 

What would we do without Lucifer, baby?

I have a shortcoming polluting my soul,

I never forget,

I never forgive,

Love is cigarette burns  to my senses,

My revenge is on a diet,

You always act like a child,

My anger is a wicked dwarf,

 

  When love is dying,

It always looks great on you and me,

Dying love always suits us,

One night you will fake regret,

I will pretend that we never met,

I loved you for all that I felt,

Every time I was around you.

XXLove letters

 

 

 

 

When white begin the game and lose it,

 

I don’t throw a tantrum,

Don’t blame Christmas depression,

For my negative state of mind,

I don’t want to depend on you and rain drops,

You erased from my heart the brightest sunshine,

Soaking up indifferent someone,

Sooner or later love will finally rot,

 

Love is a pullover,

We knit it together,

Now it’s frayed and full of holes,

Holes are always holes,

It doesn’t matter,

They might be made by bullets,

They might be made by moths, 

 

That’s why I am here,

Forgotten, forgetting, tired,

But never deprived of hope,

My love is in me,

It won’t disappear,

It will never be a flop,

 

Love shouldn’t be tied to objects,

Love is the feeling I generate,

Objects are destined to change,

They are excuses for love existence,

They make us happy,

They make us cry,

They are evidence of grief, crime and hate,

 

A man came and stood in the doorway,

He was too gorgeous for words,

I doubted that he was human,

He shunned everybody,

Hiding sunlight behind his back,

He didn’t come inside,

This is exactly how I saw a halo over his head,

 

How he’s gone,

Love is about nobody,

There is only me and love,

I’m half-divine,

Love is half-human,

You are a chess player,

We are two truths in the whole wild world of lie.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

When life is precious again,

 

 

I’d been avoiding the stairs,

I thought I wouldn’t climb them again,

I didn’t take a funicular,

I decided to walk home,

Walking alone is more romantic,

Climbing alone is for heretics,

So I gave it a shot,

 

The Basilica is truly special,

Especially late at night,

Any time Sacre Coeur is a miraculous setting,

A mishmash of people, mulled wine, street musicians,

Singing along into the night,

Paris is flooded with lights every Christmas,

Why is the end of every journey frozen, crispy and white?

 

I found myself on the steps,

‘Fly me to the moon’ was playing,

I was entangled in thoughts,

Finally I had a chance,

I knew my life had changed,

I knew I had to rely on myself,

 I had a place to go,

 

The November gloom was over,

The city re-lived the moments of light,

I caught a glimpse of Christmas windows,

Elegant or tasteless,

Pretentious or minimalistic,

I missed the beauty of happy moments,

Christmas appeared to be an outlandish rite,

 

Since forever I have existed,

I might be Alice who roamed not thinking about time,

You had loved teasing me,

‘No’,

 ‘You can be Dorothy chick’,

‘When you save others, you try to save yourself’,

 

It was the middle of my life journey,

The other half went downhill,

I had to rely on myself,

And just a bit on wonder,

I looked down at my feet,

 I was wearing ruby slippers,

I clicked my heels three times.

 

XXLove letters

 

Dedicated to the women that cry for love,

 

When anger screams,

 

 

Our last night you cracked my heart,

What did you want to tell me?

All words were gone,

Including us,

Our longest dialogues had been rich,

The corruption of ‘look’ and ‘touch’,

That night we failed to remember,

 

There was no love in the eyes,

In the stage of the deepest sleep,

When feelings were deactivated,

The reason to stay up all night made a terminal sense,

It posed a question of life and death,

While we were sharing our last cigarette,

I soaked up your every movement as if I was thirsty,

 

Space was different,

Till then it had been ideal,

Time was in the hands of a clock,

I realized the dimensions of fate,

The irony of bruised hope,

The psychosis of dreams that would never come true,

They stabbed our hearts to death,

 

Show me a woman who didn’t shed tears,

Every woman cries for her love,

As much as she loves you,

But there is always a limit,

She gets down on her knees crying,

Today she considers you to be God,

Abandoning her,

Sodomizing her love,

 

Tomorrow she’ll worship nothing,

You will be the past,

She wants to delete,

If a woman falls out of love,

She’ll fall to pieces,

She will be a jigsaw puzzle,

You will never make her complete,

 

You’ve slammed the door in her pleading,

Proudly striding away,

She’ll make you pay for her every tear,

After a while you will miss her like air,

One day your heart will break,

Watching her walking away. 

 

 

 

P.S. Dedicated to the men that make women  cry  for their love.

XXLove letters

 

 

When I stop listening to my heart,

 

 

I stop listening to my heart,

Any heart is a siren,

My heart doesn’t beat,

Keys rhythmically chop night,

Hundreds of loves find happy endings on cinema screens,

One unfulfilled love dies on the keys,

It looks for but it doesn’t find a happy ending,

 

Night is more honest than day,

Thoughts and conversations differ,

Night sets me free,

I open myself to myself,

Ideas spring out of holes of my head,

They come to life,

I live in twilight of my kitchen,

 

More often than not,

We hear the truth at night,

More often than not,

The night truth is the past in the morning,

At night memories siege us,

We  love listening to sad songs,

To every line, to every note, to every ‘yes’ and ‘no’,

 

At night it’s easy to breathe,

To forget everything and everybody,

To enjoy a cup of freshly brewed tea,

To hear silence and verses attacking my head,

To mock and to tease imagination,

To refuse to live right,

To want to live now,

 

The waves of obsession are carrying you to the abyss,

Neither return nor comeback,

Don’t cry for mercy,

These should be opening lines of my every poem written on your wrist,

They sound spiteful and sad,

Sometimes I want to return,

But I don’t know where,

 

Memory always remembers,

It bears the brightest sunlight,

A heart bears cobweb darkness,

I won’t return to the same,

The same places, the same people,

I want to return to what I felt,

No one can,

A heart is hot coffee every night I cool it down with ice cubes of nothing,

 

I return to twilight of my kitchen,

To new heroes, new pages, new make-beliefs,

My facial muscles ache,

Because I am tired of smiling,

I’m tired of trying to look sweet and happy,

I’m tired of compromising with the meaningless world I created,

That’s why I return to night.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

When I’m a prisoner of my words,

 

 

It’s 3 a.m.,

Again I mess up with my feelings,

I write a diary,

I promise again to burn every page,

I don’t keep my promise,

Cremation has been postponed,

Because not everyone is dead,

 

The diary is pardoned,

By my better half that I hate,

Words are like arrows,

Every arrow must find its target,

They are not for strangers’ ears,

A launching pad is heart strings,

The target is strangers’ hearts,

 

When words are many,

They lie in a heap like laundry,

They get devalued, irrelevant, stale,

People don’t understand us,

We don’t understand why,

We hear ‘I love you’,

 Side by side with ‘I love Cotes du Rhone Rouge’,

 ‘You know I love eating oysters’,

Or something erratic,

It’s on your lips,

 

My words have a color,

It’s velvet,

My words have a size,

It’s fall,

I take care of it,

My fall is slow,

My words have depth,

It’s winter glow,

There beautiful dreams end,

 

Beautiful days will dawn in snow,

You are near me talking nights,

After one year of numbness,

I’ve been staring at the ceiling,

I don’t dare to turn my gaze,

It’s panic,

I feel as if an electric current ran through my body and mind,

 

After one year of absence,

I feel alive again,

You touch my hair,

Time knows you are a beautiful liar,

‘He will be gone forever’,

You give me a promise,

‘I won’t be gone for long’,

 

Now I have antibodies,

Now I can face the truth,

You won’t understand ever,

I will never tell you,

You don’t need to know,

What you have done,

I’m happy that you exist.