On the 8’x10′ beige carpet that you chose
We lie together, spooning.
Of all the possibilities I had for myself
Never was this a part.
Never had I thought of a caressing hand
Holding me together.
Of eyes filled with passion
Transfixed on me.
Of another skin , this close to mine.

And slowly your grips tightens.
You hold me down.
Hold me captive in a heart so dear to me.
And I see all my dreams in front of me.
Are you making them come true?
Or are they leaking out of me?
Through the cracks made by strikes
Of your once loving hands.
Is their fading away their
Last goodbye to me?

But it’s a loss I can live with.
Tell me your dreams,
To fill the spaces that mine occupied.
Or tell me of a way to get mine back
Without having to leave you.
Tell me of love, your love.
Let my heart be consoled by that.
Tell me of how I once was,
Before you. I can’t remember,
Do you?

Kiss me, remind me
Why we are here?
Can you lessen my pain?
Can you free me?
You smile.
Of course, you can.

So I close my eyes and wait.
Wait patiently for my release.
I wait till I feel
The blade on my neck
And your breath on my back.
So this is love, isn’t it?
A slow death.
A silent wait.
Dripping blood
And a red carpet.

This life. These people. Who can shatter

at least impact.

But I suppose we live in denial.

For I don’t think that we will

be living this life as we are

if we knew how delicate it is.



I imagine you hands and their gentle grip.

You lips, how they curl when they smile,

and how lovely the words they utter.

You skin that shudders and shivers.

I imagine all this and all that is yours

And hence it is mine.



But when you lifeless body

meets its promised destiny.

Will you still be mine?

Those eyes, that skin, those hands

without life.

And you will rot away

till you are part of this earth.

And you will be everywhere,

but still I would be alone.




Is that love?

Is it love that makes my hand tremble

at the mere thought of you not being there.

Let’s choose this love

that will be end of me, end of you.

Let’s accept the pain this love is.

Because nothing we do,

no pain that we give each other

can be worse than what we will be left with

in the end.

I have an idea of Myself.

And how often, in the unregistered intervals of time,

When thoughts of world avoided me

with as much  fervor as I avoid this world.

I think of what I am,

I realize that of all the people I have deceived,

the one I fooled with perfection was myself.

When I see what I do not want to,

my mind desperately grabs onto a stray thought,

to distract me from understanding

Of what I am about to realize.



But I know this game too well

and this is not a secret that I have uncovered

for the first time in life.

It is what I half-remember in all my waking hours

and all that I know of in my sleep.



I know this lie, I have been telling myself.

But today is not the day,

to shatter my Idea of Me

with one cruel realization.



The day, when it comes,

shall be the last, I breathe, as me.

For I cherish this Idea

more than myself.

I dreamt of Galip’s dream,

He dreamt of  sitting by a blue haired ******* a bus.

I dreamt of what he saw.



He looks at her sitting alone by the window.

He doesn’t wonder why her hair is blue.

He doesn’t ask why is she so beautiful.

He doesn’t wonder why she she alone,

at midnight boarding empty buses.



He sits and looks at her.

And imagines the people who see her everyday.

He looks at her eyes that look at

everything in the world as if she owns it.

That looked at everyone as if they are hers.

He wonders do these people know how fortunate they are

to be at receiving end of her smile.

He knows (as I know) why

she caught his eye.



She looks exactly as she is.

She is something he could never be.

Something I could never be.

Galip and me, both are caught in the storm of her being

And we forget what we are.

And it is bliss.