Godot'ya GiderkenSol elinin işaret parmağında iki tane imitasyon yüzük vardı.Birinin derisi soyulmuştu,biri de derisinde iz bırakmıştı.O müzik dinlemeyi sadece kafasındaki sorular ve sorunlardan dolayı çok seviyordu,müziğin girişini dinleyip değiştiriyordu,çünkü ona çok sıkıcı geliyordu,bir parçanın tamamını dinlemek,geçerliliği kalmıyordu,beynini kontrol edemediği kadar hızlı çalıştırmasını dingin duruma getiren yeni aldığı kulaklık,onu mutlu etmeye yetmişti.Kulaklığı olmadan dışarı çıkmadığı zamanları bile olmuştu,olmalıydı,kesinlikle olmalıydı çünkü kulaklığın kablosuyla oynuyordu şu anda,metroda karşılıklı oturmamızGodot'ya Giderken6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mezarliktaki OrospularMezarlık:Mezarliktaki Orospular8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Çok ayrı şehirlerde varolmuştuk.Yaşamımız birbirmize o kadar uzaktı ki.Ancak şehirler arası yollardan sonra birbirmize bir kaç günlüğüne kavuşurduk.Hiç bir hafta sonra Taksim'de buluşalım diyemezdik.Bilirdik bir hafta sonra o haftadan bir şey kalmayacak avuçlarımıza.Aşk mıydı?Kesinlikle bir taraf için aşktı.Sonra bu zaman aşımına bir dayanırız dedik.Sonra bir taraf o kadar koşturdu diğer taraf o kadar yüreğinde sakladı ki onu.Biri imkansızı başardı,biri mükemmeli yaşadı.İlk aylar böyle geçti.Özlem üstüne kalemi olan çok yazılar yazdı.Mutsuzluk değildi ama bu yollar neden bu kadar uzaktı.O büyük şehirden birinde kalabalığa karışırdı,diğer o
owl boyLight spills like milk from the window. It drips bright upon his face. He is naked, he is the milk spilt from the window to the floor. He is sleeping now.owl boy7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sun whistles her breeze in the trees this late August and the birds are drunk with birdsong. He sleeps on through the sound. A quiet, dreaming boy. She kneels and kisses his fingers, soft.
Sun dances, warm and alight, across the sky until she is weary, disappearing with sleep herself. Calling, Moon! Moon! Im so tired my love, I will fall a moment and sleep And he will become her in the sky, following after her until sleep becomes of he, too. And the chase will continue into morrow.
But sun and moon are none, because he wakes. He wakes and he breathes slow like the beach when there is only you to watch. He wakes and the colour leaks behind half-open eyes and he is naked, so very naked this cold now-night.
A clock hand whispers the fleetingness of each moment from the wall and a cat drinks from a fish bowl. The
You're No Angel MaybeThere was some inherent desireYou're No Angel Maybe6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
deep within me immediately when you
crossed my line of vision.
Love at first sight?
I don't know what the reason was
but the fact remained that I couldn't
stop thinking about you.
So I laid awake at night and stared
at the ceiling for hours with visions of
your beautiful curves dancing through
I envisioned sculpting your figure
into clay bricks, in attempts to capture
the perfect symmetry of your body -
and failing miserably, because I was
never much of an artist - just the
pursuit of capturing perfection seemed
appealing to me.
I waited a while before I approached you,
tried getting my face familiar so that when
I finally decided to make my move, you
maybe would have the same thoughts of
me that I had of you.
But I was never that great looking, any way.
Which isn't to say your looks were the
entire appeal - the allure was far more
deep than just the aesthetics, there
was something in the way you walked -
as if you hadn't a care in
Destroy Good GirlsThey say Im a real terrorDestroy Good Girls6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a lion, an animal, completely
wild and without restraint.
The way I take girls and
bring them to their absolute
breaking point without
Habits usually reserved
for the most grisly of
Or associated with only
the most terrible of
Saints, pure at heart
rotten to the core.
It's all a game
and I happen to
be the better
I destroy good girls.
because.i will never love you because you don't smell anything like the Ukraine and because i love a boy who watched the sunset over Kuwait and i love a boy who held his mother's dying hands, asked me to hold them too. i love a boy and he is not you;because.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one with i-don't-know-what color hair but definitely-blue eyes, unless you count Texas, who i will always love but will never hold to my tongue or breast or spine again, and of course his eyes were darker than alone and maybe that's where i am because it's hard not to be alone when you love so many people.
and that's another thing because it's not just them. i love Alaska, i love her green eyes and the way she talks to me in dreams and i love Reese, how she bumbles and while i'm making a list, i love my mother. i love the way she held my fevered head and the way she danced at my sister's wedding (i love my sister too) and of course my baby brother with his busted lip and how he's taller than me now, like they alway
In lieu of a SubpoenaTo my Neighbor,In lieu of a Subpoena8 years ago in Humor More Like This
Thank you for refraining from calling the police last night. I must admit (abstaining from any zealous, overreaching hyperboles) that we were slightly excitable during the time in question but boys will be boys, wont they? From the early days when we fling aerodynamically aligned mud pies to the day we graduate to flaming rolls of toilet paper, were still just boys attempting to emulate our ancient forefathers. Those early men who roamed across majestic safari plains, hunting strange and diverse mammals with crude tools, the first flairs of human design before we reached the higher echelons of the technology we know today. My friends and I were very touched that you likened us to these proud, upright figures in our shared history we are all truly primitive, grunting cavemen at heart arent we?
That being said, calling in the SWAT team was a little
What Tonight Throw's Upfading in and out whileWhat Tonight Throw's Up6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blurring between reality and
what i wished was real while
i walked onto a thin sheet
of ice hoping the freezing
water would welcome me
into the abyss
while i threw up
all of the mistakes
from last night
and the contents
of my mood
all over the ground
if inspected thoroughly
the entire events
would play out
what was in that
but the food
was nowhere near
as bad as the
when i regurgitated
and killed off your desire
or maybe it
killed me first
Bi-polarI love you,Bi-polar9 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
Please hold me,
I hate you,
Don't touch me,
I'm laughing because your stupid,
I'm crying because I love you,
I love you,
I need you,
I want to go crazy,
Please help me,
I love my disease,
But now it's just a battle,
I hate you...
I love you...
God damn you,
a lista list of things i consider telling my doctor, but don't:a list7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
i'd tell him i am nothing more than fawn bones. i am no bigger than a pygmy child. or
i'd show him how my wrists snap off or how my fingers are smaller than his and i'd tell him to make a note that reads: 'her fingers don't work well' and one that says: 'she tries.' and then i'd tell him to cross it out.
i'd tell him about counting tiles and forgetting to swim. i'd give him the definition of apathy.
i'd tell him how i stole silver spoons and then threw them away.
i'd show him fragments of paper from that time i tore apart the maps. that time i burned the instruction manuals. and
i'd make him look at my feet. i'd tell him that they're covered in mud and that they are the most pure thing i have.
he'd make a note: 'muddy feet' and i'd cry. i'd confess.
ididitididitididit. i broke the lamp. i broke ties. i broke.
i'd draw him a
the travelers.we are sprawled across our kitchen floor and sprawled across each other, watching the globe your father gave you one birthday when you were a boy. there's a game we play. we spin the globe, create a life, create tales of happiness in exotic lands. we're playing it now.the travelers.7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
the globe spins. my finger lands. lithuania. i smile and tell you about a boy i knew who made the best lithuanian honey liquor.
"brewed it in my kitchen in the midnight hours of my youth. that's what we'll do there," i say, "be brewers of krupnikas. it is, the sweetest drink your lips will ever taste, my sweet. tastes like christmas."
"and our house?" you ask, "our family?"
my eyes close, i bite my lip, then smile.
"we will live in a little village, on the baltic sea of course. nothing spectacular, a small blue cottage. but it will be home, my god it wil
New England BluesI dreamed of some small New England town that only had two seasons: winter and fall, year round. Where the trees were either barren and skeletal, or ablaze with brilliant reds and oranges. I wanted the rain to be slow, and cold. A dull, aching drizzle that blanketed glass with streaks of crystals that would freeze against the surface and send light into a thousand different directions. I wanted the comfort of napalm nature, where trees were on fire as they began to shed their leaves, welcoming the bitter cold rather than fighting it. To me, this was a wonderland. For others, this is an abysmal ending to the year and unwelcoming of the next.New England Blues6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wanted to walk in old down town, hand in hand with you, and know that nothing could go wrong. I would wave hello to everyone, because everyone knows each other in a place like this. The open signs would all come out at the same time each day, and go in at the same time each night. We'd shake hands, and converse with the locals. We
asit kuyulariasit kuyulari7 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
O kuyuyu kazdılar Seni orada buldular Oysa ben, yıllardır her gece sarılıyorum sana. Hayalini kucağıma alıyorum ve her neredeysen diye başlayan cümlelerle sesimi sana Yok. Yok. Sesim karanlık bir kuyuda yankılanıyor ne zamandır. Bunu duyuyorum. Duyuyordum. Onlarca kemik parçasına sürtünup, hücrelerce eti eritiyor sesim. Duyuyorum. Ne zamandır. Göz çukurlarına doluyor, kurumuş kulak kemiklerinden taşıyor. Bir ölüm kokusu siniyor sesime. Duyuyorum. Duyuyordum. Saçların en siyahına dokunup tel tel ayırıyor onları. Ben istemiyorum böyle olsun. Ben istemiyorum nefesim ölüm koksun. Ben istemiyorum. İstemiyorum.
Oysa ben sadece beklemek istedim. Bekleyiş bir süre sonra ele geçiriyor seni. Üzerine düşünmemeye başlıyorsun. Salt
one.i want you to know that i don't believe in love or two people belonging to each other. and that sometimes i lay in bed at night and i hold my pillow fiercely and wish it was you and that, every time, that pillow ends up on the floor because, i'm angry that i miss you and i'm angry that you're not here and -one.7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i want you to know that every time i take a bath i think about that time we sat in the bathtub, growing old together, and you looked at me with your fuckin' brilliantly, sad, captivating blue eyes and you asked is it okay if i tell you i love you? and, i can't even take baths anymore, i have to take showers.
baby, i want you to know that i don't even know what love is but i have this, somewhat hazy memory of my birthday and i'm lying naked, curled around my porcelain toilet while your fingers fumble to get my hair tied back. your clumsiness makes me smile and you tell me god, you're beautiful. and then you go to kiss me and i say no, no. b
half turtles.without youhalf turtles.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i wake up
end up on
of a bird,
i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.every time it rains,i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i think of you.
because that's all there is--
and a quick breath of air
before we all go under.
every time it rains,
i swear i'm drowning.
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.these are the last things i'll say before i'm gone4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.
I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.
The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.
And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen
Nevrotik EstetigiGözlükle uyumadığı için,rüya görmediğini sanan kimse saplantının tanımıdırNevrotik Estetigi6 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
rüya görebilmek için gözlükle uyuyan kimse ise;bu modern hayatın katıksız gerçeğidir...
ApplicationsStatements of a life ill spentApplications8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
boxes demanding to know who I am
forgive my fear of failing
I'm so sorry,
Katrine's fragile, ship with care
I don't know anymore,
yet my lips twitch at the though of you.
Litter the floor with your secrets
discarded memories collected in my arms.
I love them best
His skin is screaming, I'd give it all to sooth him.
You bleed them, filling the screen with your pain.
I feel them as you feed my nightmares
For you, I drain my self daily.
More. Asking is hurting me.
Fill me with who you are.
Don't fuck around.
Command me to you.
They wouldn't dare care
Institutions will judge me.
Decide my fate, the fear is eating me.
Roll the dice, board the plane.
I know girls who've gone crazy
Fighting for a chance to love you well.
Let me learn you.
Hidden pictures beyond your lips.
Tears trail places hands long to go.
Demanding it's unending.
My sin is always wanting to touch you.
Fortunes spent on small
defenstrating a window.collab.morning starts when daybreaks fragile security. its six am, and youre still alone at the bar sipping your best friends Liquor and Loneliness. the pub owners know your wallets name by heart and are used to your routine. you want to stop, but alcohol bottles pay your mind the rent and bills, so you let your liver take the debt instead.defenstrating a window.collab.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
the day ends when nightfalls asleep, when the moon shoplifts the sun and pulls oceanic strings in its favor. its six pm, and youre still passed out on the taproom floor. the roosters are calling, but you keep hanging up when you should be hanging on. and all this hanging reminds me of your windowpain. your inebriation shattered the glass like a hammer, and the broken window frame hungover your once-ambitious wall of fame reminds you of yourself framed and hung: you framed the window for drunk driving, and the bribed judge sent it
Recipe for Bad PoetryHow to Write Bad Poetry:Recipe for Bad Poetry8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Start with: SCISSORS
Scissors are very good cutting your prose
into pieces (as well as fending off mobs of real poets).
It works better if you start with
some imagery, such as simile
When I think about you, I remember it all wrong.When I think of that first day, I will always remember the air as being too warm, and your clothes being wrinkled, your hair a complete mess. I remember how your nerves had your every sentence starting with “uhm” and how I hated indecisiveness and you couldn’t make up your mind, and I remember thinking I could do better without you. Now, I know that first impressions aren’t quite as important as they tell you every time you open that front door with your mismatched socks and complimentary sarcasm, armed with a crooked smile and bad grammar. Because if that were true, I would have said hello and goodbye in the same sentence. Hell, if that were true I never would have loved you.When I think about you, I remember it all wrong.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was September before you calmed down enough to look me in the eye when you were talking. My friends kept asking me why I wasting my time with you, but I knew there was something special hidden behind all your short sentences, wrapped inside the bundle of nerves that created you, that he
the last sentence I started like thisI wonder if you're still breathingthe last sentence I started like this4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the same pattern that you used to
and if your life just picked up
as it was before in a way that
makes me insignificant
I wonder if there's someone new
if she speaks in complete sentences
and means it
when she says
she loves you.
I wonder if you're doing better
and if you'll get it right this time.
but I don't really care.
That's the difference
between now and before,
I couldn't forget you
I barely remember you.