Wilted Words

I feel this sadness like a lump in my throat. Like a veil draped over my head, covering my face, not letting me see anything good. Some times I find the willpower to fight it. Most days I don't. It is too much it is too much it is too much. There is no way my body can handle it or kick it out of my system. This sadness is a parasite, it managed to camouflage itself past my immune system, rendering me defenseless against it. I can feel it in my heart, the poisoned Ivy latched on it, attached to my veins and arteries. I am becoming it. I tried resisting it, but I wasn't aware of my weakness until I came across it. At first I thought it was better than the numbness, I thought this was proof that I am still capable of feeling something. Little did I know the magnitude of these tsunamis, little did I care back then. But now I pray every night for it to leave me. I want to be normal, I want to feel normal. What do normal people when they have an excess of emotions, of deep co...

I am at the front door holding the key of the apartment in my hand. I can feel the cold metal pressed against my skin. If I unlock this door I'll be home. Alone. Again. My hand is trembling, it is shaking.... Inside this place every inch is familiar, every corner is memorized, every thing is still and dull and lonesome. Even my guests room is disappointed with the lack of company. If I get inside I will be alone. Again. With no one but my self up against all my poisonous thoughts. The fire squad. Every thought is bullet. A bullet that doesn't necessarily hit me but it definitely deafens me and I don't get a chance to recover from the chaos to be shoot at with another bullet again. Sometimes they do hit me and I just watch myself bleed and I wish if I die then but I don't. In the safety of darkness, they creep up on my skin, the false sense of safety keeps me occupied. I am safe. I am alone and I am safe. But I am not. I know I am not. Theses thoughts don't p...

I have always wondered, what is the worst of human emotions ? I thought about it a lot before I realised that the answer is so obvious, the worst feeling a person could feel is loneliness.  Especially the an unyielding constant kind, the persistent kind, the one tugging at your selves, an ever present reminder of all the things you want and can't have, your longing for human connection, your longing to belong, your essential need to give, to need and to be needed just the same. It is absolutely the worst, because it induces rage and sadness and all kinds of awful feelings, it brings out your bitterness and envy, and to top it all, it makes you feel worthless, maybe they are right, maybe something is wrong with you, maybe you don't deserve it, maybe you are so screwed up, and all these questions well up to the surface, they punch you in the heart without mercy, and as much as you try to neglect them and brush them, the voices in your head will whisper them to you so often that ...

I have ten fingers, and ten toes. I have nine t-shirts, eight pairs of shoes, seven trousers and six friends, I have five pens and four limbs, I have three siblings, I have two kidneys, two lungs, two ears, two eyes, I have one mouth, one heart, one brain, and infinite words, infinite thoughts. these are the only things I am sure of today. I am sure of facts and facts only. of simple profound factual things, like the rising sun and the chirping birds outside, I am sure of the traffic and the polluted air and the couple arguing next door, I am sure of things that I can see, hear or smell, I am sure that the speed of light is still the same and that the Earth is still rotating around the sun, around itself. But, what I am not sure of is the real problem here, I am not sure of how I like my tea anymore, or if I even like it to begin with. I am not sure about the clear sky because there is still a possibility that it might rain, I am not sure I want what I want, feel what I feel ...

If you walk down a road everyday for a period of time, you will eventually memorize it. Or to more accurately, your body does. It is as if your body has developed a memory of its own, where it remembers the regular easy things you do. You can walk that road without focus and still not get lost. Your legs lead the way, knowing exactly how many steps to take. It's the same thing with braiding your hair, you do it by default, you don't think much about it while doing it. Your fingers twist your hair in a familiar way, knowing exactly what to do. It also occurs with many other things. You do them without concentrating, without your full attention, and as soon as your body learns something there is no undoing it. You can't un-teach your nose the smell of fresh roses or his perfume. You can't stop your mouth from humming that song you learned in third grade or his name. You fingers will always know how to knot a tie and how the spot in the between his shoulder blades fe...

I don't remember the day we first met in details, I just remember your polite calculated smile, your short nods, the rare  comments on subject you weren't interested in and the short forced compliments. I remember how off looking that scene was, you in a crowed, with people you claimed to be your friends and cigarettes you pretended to like smoking. Like rainbow in a night sky. Intriguing, but off. I introduced myself and was instantly hooked. I loved how much you knew about rain forests and what species are in threat of extinction. I got really interested in what you know about the stars and planets and other galaxies. We discussed NDE's and mental illness and bad poetry. I enjoyed talking to you about all the things that I didn't knew and I was amused by how much you knew about the world. And I thought to myself, here is someone who can teach something. And as intelligent and intellectual you were, there is one thing you didn't know about. The night I to...

Dear you, Sorry that it took me too long to write back, I have been trying to avoid this confrontation, but there is no point in doing that anymore. I didn't know how to start this, I already wrote a few letters and threw them all away. So I figured I'll just be spontaneous and write whatever comes to my mind. I want to tell you a few things that I am sure you know, even when you don't have anyone to remind you of them. First of all, you are loved by your family and friends and the universe, it doesn't matter if that one person you loved the most doesn't love you anymore, that lost love was once real, and that's more than many people ever had. Second, I want to tell you how strong and brave you are, I know that right now you are swirling in the quick sand of a transitional grey state. I know how hard it is for you. I know that you wake up every day hoping that this will be the last day in this maze, and you wake up the next day just as broken as you were the ...

My heart is fragile. It's a curse, to have a heart with chambers drenched in sympathy, Because my heart breaks a little every time I see someone begging for money, or an old man eating alone in a restaurant. It breaks when I see someone helplessly sick, when I see a kid left out. It breaks when I watch the news, when I think of wars, And when my friends get hurt from boys they love. But also it is a blessing, to have a heart so alive and tender, Because wherever I look, I see beauty, I see it in the creaks of walls, And corners of old streets. I see beauty in half moons and the bright sun. I see it when sheers of rain pour down from the sky and when the sky is clear as a blank page. I see it in random faces of people, I see it where no one bothers to even look. And then, I feel thankful for my heart. That I can love and give, That it's spontaneous and childlike. And I hope that I will have it forever, I hope the ugliness that passes by it won't blind it...

A cruel heart, Made of glass, Made of rock Made of anything but soft tissues. Torn apart, Made of shreds, Made of stones, A canvas of scars and issues. Dysfunctional, And crisp as a cold gust, There is no room in there for anyone, A dungeon so gruesome. There is only the maze, Of confused feeble walls, Where you got lost, And lost it all.

There is a reason why woke up early that day, why you wore your blue shirt instead of the red one and why after staring at all the pairs of shoes you own for more than ten minuted you picked your old snickers. There is a reason why you changed your usual route to work and why you didn't find a cab, why you didn't stop to buy cigarettes although you ran out of them, There is a reason why you took the stairs instead of the elevator and were ten minutes late to your office, There is a reason why your employer didn't scold you for being late and why the coffee machine in the break room was not working, why you had to have that cop of coffee and decided to go to the first floor to see if the have some. There is a reason why you stopped to tighten your shoelace although you could have done it later and why you cleaned your glasses although they weren't that dirty and why you stopped to say hi to one of your co-workers on your way to the break room on the first floor. ...

I don't know who I am right now. It seems like I have lost myself, somewhere between where I was and I where I want to be, I can't go back and I can't go further. There is something eerie about this place and it's incredibly hard to overcome, this steep road is the hardest to cross. Maybe getting up and dusting myself off and pushing myself to go ahead is hard, but hitting that thick invisible wall where suddenly nothing makes sense is deflating, I am not sure about anything any more and it is unimaginably harder. The worst part of it is that I don't know how long will it last, I call it a day and I think it's temporary, maybe it will last for a week or so but then a month passes by and things haven't changed or got a bit better. I am crippled and I don't know what to do. I hate how helpless I am. how vulnerable I feel, I am swimming against raging tides of fear. what if the better is not coming? The question resonates in my head, shackles my he...

I sigh. he sighs. I shrug. he frowns. I tuck my hair behind my ears. he runs his hand through his hair. he chuckles. I laugh. he shrugs. I flinch. I take a deep breathe. he doesn't answer.

start a conversation with me, even if it was just for five minutes, or maybe five hours. Talk to me about the weather and the random things you tell strangers whom you met for the first time, or tell me about what scares you the most or why you don't want to be like your father. Look at my face as you speak, look deeply into my eyes, or just look at the sky and your surroundings, the creases around your eyes when you smile are the most beautiful thing. Brush your hand against my arm accidentally or hold my hand tightly on purpose, the feeling of your skin on mine is more than enough to make me feel safe in your presence. don't do any of that things or do them all. Because it would not change a thing about how I feel about you.

when you fall in love with someone there are only few things that you can see in them, you can only see how charming their laugh is and how the butterflies in your stomach never stop fluttering, you don't see the way their hands shake with rage when they are angry, or the look of resentment in their eyes when they hate someone's gut. when you fall in love with someone there are only a few things that you can imagine, you imagine yourself pressed against them, sleeping soundly, you imagine yourself making breakfast and singing off-key with them, you don't imagine the day the way they spit venomous words towards ruthlessly, or how much they can hurt you or if they're willing to do it, the idea of them dropping your heart, throwing it away and stepping on it is not fathomable to you.  You might have your speculations, but you know that we are human and no one is perfect, you forgive them over and over, because that what love is? isn't it? it's the most p...

The sound of things falling is a rattling voice, even if it's nothing but a low thud or a whisper echoing around. it's always the same place, but you barge in, you have no choice. you hear these sounds all the time of your own pieces falling down, they were barely hanging. you're the rat lured in by the music of the pipe, you try to move but your legs are glued to the ground, you're a sailor who lost his faith and seeking land. Lonliness sings with a melody that rings in your ears, a mermaid of hell who madly kills your heart, and every happy thought, you lose this battle and the one after, for every time you show some resistance, it hurts your case you lose your grace, you hate your own existence. Turn over your pillow as much as you want, remove your covers and cover yourself up again, you won't find peace, for all those ghosts your dreams they haunt, when you wake up tomorrow you know you'll be drained, it never stoppes you f...

whenever you're going through an endless dark night, and everything around you is bleak and grey, remember you have a light inside you, that can turn this night into day.

I found a bloomed daisy, I held it closely and decided to start a count. one, a week after we met then we arranged a meeting where we had a nice long night, we talked non-stop, then we went out for a walk, I remember giggling till my stomach hurt. Before I go home he offered to walk with me although he didn't have to. I was cold and he gave me his jacket. two, I didn't hear from him for whole ten days afterwards. three, I called in sick the other day, he came with a bouquet of flowers and my favorite chocolate. He wanted to stay with me the whole day until I was better, I told him not to but still he stayed. four, I called him two times, texted him three times, he saw my text and didn't reply. the next day I asked him why he didn't answer me yesterday, and he ignored my question. five, it's my birthday, I woke up to long sweet text from him, he asked me to meet him to find out that he had a party planned for me. six, I am talking and he is not ev...

I have always wondered how two people can be married and hate each other. up until lately I have always thought that people in relationships have their feelings sorted out. Especially those who decide to get married and become one. but then, who doesn't hate themselves a little bit? let alone another person who's going to know all about them? They'll know all abnout your failures and underachieved goals. How you always say you will quit smoking tomorrow but that never happens, how you seem cruel and heartless sometimes while other times you can't keep your shit together and you fall apart. maybe, after you marry someone, they start seeing those things that you hate about yourself, and if you didn't choose your life partner correctly, they'll hate you for it too. it doesn't happen overnight, and it doesn't always happen over arguments. all what it takes is a flicker to start the fire. it's unspoken words and resentment buried deep somewhere. ...

I can't confined in more than one person at a time. I realised that in my early teen years, I had many friends then but I barely shared anything with all of them, it was all fun and going out and school issues. Nothing personal. I am exactly sure who built that barrier between me and people around me. I have to admit that a big part of it is on me, my lack of confidence to speak my mind, my disinterest in what they talked about all the time, my quiet shy nature and the fact that I prefer to listen than talk and most people take that as a sign of an empty mind, not one filled with complicated words. I have a tendency of keeping things to myself too. No one needs to hear about the nightmare I had last night or my conclusion on a book's plot that I'm reading, it's not their fault that we didn't see eye to eye when it came to interests. And that was how I grew apart from my first group of friends. It's been years since I've seen them now. We still occasiona...

It amazes me how immensely fascinating our world is. Yet it's saddening how no one seems to be able to see it.  Most adults lost their childish curiosity and enthusiasm towards anything. Nothing is excites them any more, we think that we've seen every color, heard enough stories, met enough people, and nothing is ever considered new. That alone is reason enough to make most people lose motivation, and lose their passion.  a life without passion is nothing but a boring routine.  and no one can understand the danger of slow dull life until it's too late, when days are lost and time you can't get back has passed by along with opportunities you have missed.   and then you'll always have this subtle kind of pain, tugging at your sleeves, constantly reminding you of your mistakes. A soft guilt, gentle, but never subsiding, reluctant to leave you alone.    There are so many things people can do to avoid reaching ...

A lump the size of the world is lodged in my throat. I try to speak but no one can hear me, my voice is barely a whisper, I try to shout it out, still it is not audible. I curl on the couch, trying to fold my self into a small ball. It doesn't help. It doesn’t change the facts and it doesn't help me accepting this new reality. I didn't mean to make him my universe it just happened. Sometimes I play the whole thing over and over in my head, trying to exactly pinpoint the day it all went wrong, like a nameless city on a map. His details has faded a bit now. I don't quite remember the tone of his voice. But then there are things I can't forget not in a million years. The way he looked at me, The way he formed his words in such care and delicacy just for me. It's hard to stop searching for myself in his words, even when I know they're not meant for me, they probably never were. I don't speak about him anymore. And every time I promise myself not t...

I wish I knew how not to exist. Not in the sense of death. I don't want to die now. I haven't fathomed death as a concept yet. To me, it's something that happens to other, the people around me or people I love, but not me. Just as love, which is irrelevant here, but just as I was saying, I want to not exist here. Sometimes after I wake up and get over wit my daily routine, I come to the conclusion that this is no the life I want. It is definitely not the life I imaged for my self five years ago. And I am not saying this because my life is that awful, it's simply not what I want for myself. Most of the time I daydream of running off  with nothing but a backpack with my favorite books and bare minimum requirements for life. This kind of life suffocating me. And what makes things worse is knowing that I could do better. And that it feels like I am just watching my days pass by.

Your love is pure and unassuming, It's the kind that heals hearts and breaks walls, And as promising as it seems it's not what I am looking for. I am on journey, one that I have to do alone. Maybe you can sit at the side line, and whisper words of encouragement to me before I go. Watch me until I'm a faded figure in the horizon and an echo of promises I made. Watch me leave, and curse your heart for being so weak, and your mind for talking you into believing me. I want to say I'm sorry but I don't dare to ask for your forgiveness, which you would give willingly without a second thought. I don't deserve it. What you don't know is that I chose to be alone. Yesterday, today and tomorrow, To me they're all the same. I wish if it had been enough, but it isn't, and I can't give you what is long gone. It's not someone else's heart that I am seeking, it's my own.

Figuratively speaking, my mother is dead. In fact, she's been dead for a few years now, but it took me some time to see it. It started three years ago, when the flowers she grew on our balcony wilted. There wasn't a chance of reviving them then, just like her. I started paying more attention, and the death of her started to show more often, clearer and louder each time. A year ago she broke two eggs on th floor while making breakfast, she was never clumsy, and she didn't bother cleaning the mess up. A few weeks later everyone could see how turbid the water of her fish tank was. Apparently she couldn't notice, or worse yet, she didn't care. A few months later I got home from school and the first sound I heard was my baby brother crying his lungs out, my mother was just in the next room staring into an empty wall. It was things like that that confirmed my worries, but also how rare and crisp her smiles became, how loud the absence of the sound of her laugh is...

Seven billion people are living now on this planet, seven billion different faces, seven billion different voices, seven billion different experiences and hundred thousands different lessons learned each day. Although, there is one thing those seven billion people learn at some point in the life, it's the one thing that no one would doubt or argue, which is that life is  unfair. Some people beat others into this realisation, but they do realise it eventually. Watching the news is enough evidence. Or just waking down the streets of your small city would do. They stories you hear every day  of a mother losing her only child, and a kid losing both his parents, of two lovers who don't end up together or of a person yearning for love they can't have. Of dreams destroyed so often that you start to think that this is only way the world knows how to exist. Preying on its inhibitors as some kind of vengeance, as if it's reminding us to whom we owe our existence. Maybe the...

Like the way we started, we end. With words, dire, dry and cliche that maybe another thousands of people were saying the exact same words at the exact same time you were saying them. At first you tried to dance around, but I knew what was coming, even when I spent all that time convincing myself otherwise, I know it was all coming to an end. Maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe I had been delusional and optimistic, a combination of the most sweet yet poisonous things. Maybe I turned a blind side, not really looking, dazed by the idea of having it all, of having you. But I knew that it was unfair to you, to be dragged into something you don't want to be a part of. That's why I told you I understand, when you said that you don't want to live with half a heart.

I no longer tell them anything. I don't share my favorite songs or discuss my favorite movies with anyone. I don't suggest my favorite books either. because I know what it's like to share every part of yourself recklessly, that was before you. now I don't do that. it's like a bad habit that I kicked away. At first it made me a little uneasy to hide away like that, it was a bit tiring too. I didn't want to give an honest answer whenever they asked me what's wrong. I thought they would notice and assail me with questions, demanding answers that I don't have, but they didn't. and I was a little bit relieved that I don't have to go through that. I wasn't always in the mood to explain, after all, what should I say? how can I put it into words? How can I let them know that this is the only way I could pick myself up again? I can't fly with broken wings, and that's all I have for now, that's all I could manage, a pair of wo...

Have I ever told you haw much I love you? I know that I have said those words thousands times before, and I said them silently before ever verbalizing them.  it is such a strange thing, love.  it is the closest thing to faith, it is so profound,  you can't see it, but you know it's there.  I fell in love before you, with how many people? it's irrelevant, because it's just happened.  and every time it had been different.   the same love never happens twice, not with the same two people.  and that's the beauty of it.  after my first heartbreak I remember thinking that I don't want to be in love,  ever again,  but hearts are wild creatures, they long for the familiarity of love,  they are meant to love, and they seek purpose.  the emptiness that filled my heart drained me, stripped me of my colors.  I was not dead, or alive,  just something in between. until I allowed love to c...

sometimes you set at the roof of your house, or the small window of your room and you look into the horizon you see the blurry line where the sky and the city meet, and for a moment you allow yourself to think, to drift in realms unknown to you yet. you allow your self to lay off for a few moment, you don't think about anything, or you think about everything all at once, but either ways it's consoling. something about the silence, this good kind of silence, and the absence of company makes you more oriented and calm for a moment. as if time has stopped and the world is giving you some time to process its magnificence. It's giving you a chance to open your eyes, to see with your heart. To notice and observe as life washes over, and passes by. You realize that life is happening around you, to every single individual, that every stranger has their own complicated life, each one of them has a secret they don't talk about, each and everyone is afraid of something, and ever...

Believe it or not, at some point of my life I was almost worry-free. I ate for a whole week without counting calories of my meals, not even once, not worrying about how many extra pounds I'll see on the scale. I had my friends and people I loved around me almost all the time and whenever I needed them. when I was young I didn't appreciate my youth or my time. I took things for granted. until my very first loss. I lost someone who was a part of me, our days were intertwined that we had an almost identical routine. and if someone had told me that now I wouldn't have them in my life I wouldn't have believed it. the thing about losing someone you love is that a short while after, it doesn't matter whose fault it was, all you want to do is get them back, all you need to do is retain some of the equilibrium that  you lost along with them. you fall in love with the image you have of them. and you fall out of love with the memories you have of them. you idolize the...

And if Loving you was not enough, I will open the grave I dug with my bare hands, I will get my heart out from its casket, and I will give it you, rotten remnants and dysfunctional as it is. but that's all I have got, and it's yours, and yours alone. If loving you was not enough, it is not going to redeem you, from the injustice done unto you, or save you from past failures or repeated mistakes, my love for you is more than we both could take. then my body shall lie next to my heart. so if loving you was not enough, I hope it has given you the strength to let go of my hands, to unwind your soul from my soul, maybe it will make you brave enough to remember me, with a small smile on your lips, and the warmth that once was. The warmth, the words softly spoken, that proved that I once lived.

I saw him the other day coincidentally as I passed by a cafe he used to go to regularly. I saw him through a side window, and I couldn't help but stop. he was holding a cup of coffee with both hands gripping it tightly. smiling, a soft kind of smile. I smiled spontaneously at the sight of him. for a split second I had forgotten everything that had happened, I forgot that it's been ten months since we spoke and almost dashed to say hi. I saw him sitting a few feet away from me, totally oblivious to my presence, his smile got wider although he wasn't with company and I couldn't help but wonder why. he smiled the kind of smile that flashes on your face when you remember something funny, or a silly joke. the kind of crooked goofy smile that you can't suppress as thoughts of the person you love roam in your head. I swallowed hard, said a silent goodbye and walked away without looking back, because I know that I am not the reason for this smile anymore. This smi...

As much I hate to admit it, as much as I hate acknowledging it as a real valid thing, I admit that I hate you. I do, with all my heart, or whatever pieces left of it. it's quite ironic actually, when I think about it, how the person who filled once with love is the same one to fill you with poisoning hatred. How you enjoy daydreaming about them and just the mere thinking about them made your hart pound with ecstasy, but now it just multiple merciless punches directly hurting you. thinking about him sends sharpeners of anger in my bloodstream, cutting me from the inside and I bleed and bleed and my body bruises and my hearts bruises and I can't seem to make it stop. many memories and moments are crafted inside my head, proving that time may not heal anything. it's been one hundred and twenty six days, not that I was counting, it comes naturally to me, like a bad habit that I can't brush off. I hate you for so many reasons, I already made  could make a list, but wh...

He is lying in your arms, breathing evenly, his eyelashes seem really long from up close, and his heart is beating in sync with your own. You can feel his heart despite your skin and his and all the barriers between them, but you swear it's almost as if his heart is beating inside your chest.  and you realize, that you and him, you start war in each other's heartbeats.  You stroke his hair, and the length of his face, and at this moment, you can't think of a reason why you wouldn't want this to be the way you spend every single night of the rest of your life.  Here comes a feeling you thought you'd forgotten. You wish if there was a way you could let him understand how much you love him. If somehow you could transfer some of the feelings you have into him, because no language can exactly translate it, no amount of words can convey it. Sometimes it feels bigger than you as whole. You don't want to admit it but it scares you, because the more you try to co...

Long time ago, I had an irrational impulsive heart, and I hated it. I thought it was a fault in my character, something I should work on and try to fix, as if I was a broken lamp. I tried to prevent myself from feeling things so intensly, but I couldn't, I know I had to accept this problem in order to change it. at first I tried, and I failed, every bit of emotion emitted from me was forced to stay inside the frame of my body, my skin was a physical barried that kept these feelings swarming withing me. I practiced it. At first it was not easy, I turned into a timed bomb. A moving living bomb. sometimes I felt the volcano searing its inside me.  and most of the time I couldn't handle it. My swallowed tears were the only thing I used to put out these fires, it took a long time, but eventually, it worked.   I did it. or maybe overdid it. because now I don't feel a thing, I didn't know this will be the side affect. this emptines...

There is so much you want to tell the universe. but the universe is nonchalant and ignorant. The world walks up to you and says hello casually, every single day, in the hallways or whenever she sees you. Every now and then you make up your mind and decide that this is going to be the day you face The universe, but all the courage that you built up the past few days betrays you, and you drag your feet back in defeat. you make yourself the same promise, only to break it again, over and over and over. You can't do this anymore, but you don't know what else to do. maybe if it wasn't for her careless walk across the room, or the way she effortlessly smiles as if she doesn't have a speck of a worry or an ounce of a burden on her shoulders. you hate her, but at the same time, you know you can't blame her..   after all, you're the one who's impact by the majestic sound of her voice and the calm blue of...

The same moon hangs up every night in the same sky. Tonight I am watching it like I always do, but this time with slight differences. I am not watching it from your roof, but from a small window in my bedroom. and I'm watching it without you. For some reason I feel like you are watching it too. and in that alone I find some consolation. Love was different for us. We never had a typical love story, or what many people will regard as normal. What we had was delusional, irrational and a bit crazy, the kind of thing that only comes to you once in a lifetime. It was not a fairy tale either. you do not believe in this kind of  ''childish'' things. Yes, our love couldn't be defined. Simply because it didn't fall under the common definition of 'love', but I can assure you it was the most pure and true form of it. It was the realest and the most wonderful experience I have ever had. You were the reason why I stayed up all night althou...

Turning twenty is an awfully big deal, you are not a teen anymore, no one has the right to treat as a child now. Everything will be different. It's supposed to feel different. now you get to be independant and think for yourself instead of being the box that everyone  deposite their thoughts and beliefs in. Now you can figure it all out. The past five years of  revolting confusion has come to end, right? no, sorry to burst your bubble, but that's not the case. Actually, the first few years of your twenties are life the first years of your birth. You realise that there is so much that you have been missing, an a lot more things to learn that you ever thought you could, and that the world is so immense and enourmeous, and that your journey in this life has just began. At your early 20's, you still need to learn protocols of human communication, you still need to digest and process the complexity of human beings, you might not get there right aw...

- One word can fill three cold months of winter with warmth. - Human soul is capable of wonders, and no one knows how really strong they can be, until they're forced to. - When the waves hit, you either choose to run away, but it will be at your tail and eventually it will catch you, or you could try to swim, and you might drown too. But you can hold still and firm, try to stand tall, take the major hit and wait for it to end. -  Love is really hard to achieve because it's abstract, and it's almost impossible for us to define it, it's almost impossible to believe that something is concrete other than our true selves. - It's a wonderful feeling to be happy with someone, it's even better when you become a source of happiness to someone. - Everything is relative and temporary. - If I had a chance to go back in time and give my younger self a piece of advice, I'd tell her to stop worrying about everything, because everything works out at the end, eve...

when someone asks me what's my biggest fear, I stop for a second before answering. because as much as heights scare me, or drowning, they don't are not my worst fears. I don't know how to explain it accurately, but I've seen it happen a million times, I've heard about it a lot. I've learned that people fall out of love just as easy as falling in it, for the same reasons. That their lover's endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise, that their sense of humor is now childish and immature and their bad habits that you once adored is now anchoring burdens. Their impulsive actions are reckless and irresponsible and their placidity is coming from their cold and distant hearts. Their coffee mugs on your table (not in the sink) or their legs on your dash is no longer cute but annoying, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing frightens me more than this. The idea that I can become ugly to someone who saw a universe in my heart a...

I am depressed. And unlike most of depressed people, I am going to admit it, perhaps that's the key to solving problems, isn't it? Acknowledging them first, then looking for solutions.  My therapist told me that my aura is a changing blue, she told me that in order to overcome my 'illness' I must change it into other warm hues, shades of orange or red or yellow.  But right now, I'm all different shades of blue.  I am a light blue, when I'm around people , and in crowded places, or in parties where I don't recognise a face, indifferent, dim and quite.  I am a dark blue, when I'm all alone and lost in...

Many people talk about how your first heartbreak is your worst. but what they forget to mention is how your second is even worse than your first. Because this time you were more careful, more prepared, you did everything the right way and it still didn't work. you changed your ways and avoided all the mistakes you did with the previous person you loved and still it turned out wrong. You collected your fragmented heart, and tried to build a home for someone else with it, soon enough you realised that you built a fortress and locked yourself in. Don't try to blame it on anyone else, not even yourself, not the world or timing or this universe that you live in. Don't try to hold on too tight to this hemp rope, it will burn your hands. Stop reading his letters, there is no room for more papercuts, they'll wound your heart. Stop searching for yourself in his words, or for what truths or lies ,might be hidden in his eyes. and if you want ot break down, ...

I know how you feel now, trust me on this.  I know that you tell yourself that you;re not good enough, just average and quite ordinary, that it no one can love you, because if they don't mess it up, you will.  you tell yourself that so many times that you almost believe it. but then you have forgotten, that the best thing about love is that it happens unexpectedly.  totally unplanned, completely sudden, as if it's out of nowhere.  who knows?  you might meet someone tomorrow while getting your groceries, or five years from now when you're borrowing a book from the library. you'll meet someone who will teach you how to play chess or what a penalty is a soccer game means, someone with an identical music taste but with an opposite taste in movies.  someone who will see the beauty of your smile and remind you of your worth.   and when you finally meet them, you'll be ready, and it will scare you, but deep down you know that this is what you ...

I remember that story you told me once, about a caterpillar that you tried to save between you hands but you crushed it instead. and that is exactly what you did to me. You put me in a box with 'fragile glass' written with black marker on it and you did it to protect me from yourself. You belive death and destruction is all what you're capable of. But I never had the chance to prove you wrong.

I look at the butterfly imprisoned behind the glass pane in the insects museum, Still and lifeless. I look at the flower crushed under the weight of the pages of my book, Dry an Careless. And then there is your heart, pressed Underneath the words unsaid and your secrets, Suffocated and breathless. Only then I realised that dead things can be beautiful.

I have a tendency, Of loving things which are bad for me, That's why I love my cigarettes, Why I only eat fast food, And you.

We met again. Seven years later.  I am  twenty eight,  You are twenty nine now,  And I have a kid.  You squint your eyes at me,  Tilt your head, and your eyes widen,  You approach me gingerly, And smile at my daughter.  You pinch her cheek,  And smile at her, and I remember,  How your palm felt against my own face,  How your smile warmed my heart. 

I wrote a poem, just for you. My hands were unsteady while writing it as my words flowed. rushing out, like prisoners breaking free, running away. there isn't any room left for them, anyway. Do you think of me, or you're trying to ignore the fact that I ever existed? did you lock me in one of  the dusty corners of your mind? do you talk about me to strangers, or you never mention my name, not even in your head? On a scruffy piece of paper, and an old pen, my oldest friend, I wrote and wrote and wrote, Words, sentences, paragraphs, And pages. I wrote why I love you, I wrote why I shouldn't, I wrote what should I do to forge you, I wrote about how I couldn't. You of all people, know how much I fought, how I fought too much for all the wrong people that I could no longer fight for the right ones when they came. I can't fight for you. I w...

I open my eyes lazily. A small amount sigh escapes my lungs. I get up, and search through my things. In a small box, a folded letter lies there,  safe and sound. I unfold it and tightly hold it. The ink is faded, just like the face of its writer, just like the memories of its owner. I'm dyslexic, The words I'm reading don't make sense to me. But I read them over and over until they do. I read them over and over and over until the words are legible again. I read them, To make sure that they're true. Because up until last night, II still think of you. And I wonder, Do I cross your mind at all?

I walked along sides the river, asking him where he was taking me. He gently flowed. Shimmering in the bright sunlight. I was captivated, mesmerised and totally amazed, By the calmness of it. As of it didn't carry the smallest of weights, of sharp rocks or heavy burdens. Patience, my dear heart.  The agony of not knowing is almost too much. But I will walk with him, I will wait for him. I don't know why I didn't ask yet, but when you're on love it doesn't seem like you have a choice. I give my heart easily, that is my fault. Now I'm tired. The river's silence is more than I thought I could tak...

I spent way too much time explaining why i'm quiet, or why I prefer my own company I spent much time justifying why it's ok to be myself and my motives. i sometimes feel like a map that's been folded too many times. the ink on the creases has faded, and i'm impossible to read. Up until the moment where I realized that I don't owe anyone anything, especially that no one really cares, they're just curious. Especially that they don't bother understanding rather than judging you. Or wanting you to love yourself differently. This rare genuine connection, you barely come across anyone who just wants you to become better, to love you on your own terms. So when you find them, hold on. Even if it hurts, even when you're not completely sure. After all what other options do you have? Tighten your grasp,...