One day
I want to write a poem
That captures your soul
In the adjectives
Describing the sky

One day
I want to write a sentence
That you will carry
In your memory
Scarred and stained
For an infinity

One day
I want to write a short story
Of a guy
A lot like you
And a girl
A lot like me
With no lies
Only honesty
And a forever that lasted
Just a while

One day
I want to write a paragraph
About the sea in you
And the sea in me
And how we fell in
Each other
And never needed to come up for air

One day
I want to write a dictionary
With all of our own definitions
Of everyone else's words
It will start from the letter Z
And end on A
Because it will be easier
That way

One day
I want to write an essay
On how the sunlight
Made patterns on your skin
Even after you lied
And shadowed the constellations
Screaming honesty
Into the dark

One day
I want to write a novel
About the way your voice
And his voice
Sounded
Just before
You both were about to cry

One day
I want to write lyrics
For the song
I meant to sing to you
About the moon
And the sun
And how they dance
Whenever all of our eyes are closed
Even if it's just for a second
(Light
Always travels faster
Than sound)

One day
I want to write you a telegram
With someone else's hand
To tell you
How much I miss you
And how my heart
Is not in my chest anymore
Really-
It's shattered across the sky
Just for you to see

One day
I want to write you a letter
To tell you
That you didn't know what love is
And neither did I

But
I still love you

Maybe I've not woken up
so promptly.
Maybe I've not silenced
so prudently.
Maybe I've never listened to you.

"The deep cut
is not the only pain
felt in this world.
Do something lovely,
otherwise, I get confused."

I hear the orchestra play.
It announces tragedy
which I persisted in not to remember;
however, the symphony describes that day:
too many suspended melancholies in the air.

I asked you not leave like this
and you asked me to be courageous.
And suddenly, the explosion took you from me
as well as from your pleasurable love.
How can I go on without one for whom I came?

Regretting is out of time
– empty thing, rather unstable.
Staring at the sky, I remember the words of yore:
"the dawn is so admirable
after the night goes away."

Hey Sofia!
Love isn't lost.
It's just missing
as the heart.

You fell in love with him
before the rebellion begins.
He fell in love with you
after his mind changes.

Oh Sofia!
You found love too early.
Too early to feel it.
Too early to suffer for it.

Now he feels nothing but cold.
He hears nothing but whispers.
He sees nothing but salvation.
He loves nothing but survival.

Hey Sofia!
Don't be sad
Loving isn't just an ability, but a gift!
A gift which was forgotten...

If everything is over,
what should I do with these verses?
Should I hide them? Should I tear them?
Should I recite them? Please tell me!

I

We visited that abandoned house.
We shouted our names for nothing.
We ran through streets before nightfall.
We hoped not to become that being.

Yes, ephemeral was our childhood
therefore I tell it with such elegance.
No, it wasn't a wastage
neitheir became an addiction.

Many envied our joviality
as well as our age.
Many planned our future;
always good and bad, never pure.

II*

They disappeared with his yearnings.
They kidnapped her dreams.
They burned my memories with a candle.
They marked out our soft skin.

In all those years,
I never imagined which getting old
was a problem to solve.
And, looking back, I see us as insane.

Well, we are grown up now
and childhood must become forgettable.
However, it will never be possible...
Remembering all won't be a delay.