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.