You look at the mirror
realize that you changed for someone else
How much you hate it
You start searching for yourself again
You search for the stories you used to hide
For the poems you wrote behind your face
You search for your little secrets hanging on the corner of your lips
For the curses in your eyes
You search for the things you hided untill they were forgotten
And the things you forgot utill they disappeared
unill you disappeared
And the only thing you can see
Is a fake reflection on the mirror.
....
تنظرُ إلى المرآة
و تعي في لحظة واحدة أنّك تغيّرت لأجل أحدهم
تكرهُ نفسك
تبحثُ عن قصائدك المُخبّأة خلف وجهك
عن الأسرار المُعلّقة عند زاوية فمك
تبحثُ عن الشتائم في عينيك
و الغضب في حنجرتك
عن الأشياء التي خبّأتها إلى أن نسيتها
و نسيتها إلى أن اختفت
إلى أن اختفيت
و لا يبقى منك سوى انعكاس كاذب
على المرآة

I just want to tell you everything will be ok. And for you to believe me.

Some woundes can’t be healed with love.
Especially those which were made by the hands of anger.

I can
Imagine spending my life
Drinking from your mouth
My red wine
Smoking your fingers
Geting high on your breaths
Touching every cell of you
Hearing their stories
With every cell of mine.
.
I can
Imagine waking up everyday
To your hair on my face
Your cold feet touching mine
Your stomach nagging for bacon
And your lips starving for a kiss
.
I can
Imagine you as happiness
And sadness
anger
peace
love
As ups and downs
smiles and tears
As roses and thrones
Heaven and hell
Fire and rain
as the good thing in every one of them
.
I can
Imagine you as life
As reality.

I can’t understand moms.
They love you, but really turn your life into hell.

His head on my lap
But I still have this question
Why is there a gap?
My heart and my brain
Are in two different directions
The heart feels warm
A little bit cozy and safe
The brain is a storm
Wishing he could hide in a cave

Sometimes, I have this panic attack on being with someone.
It’s never easy for me to let anyone see the chaotic world behind my ribs. It’s really chaotic behind my ribs.
I sometimes think I prefer spending my Friday nights alone on letting anyone to stick his empty head inside my chest.