• Poetry

    Have you come for work or pleasure?

    Have you come for work or pleasure? It’s always the first for you, your job to swallow the men and spit them out. Satisfaction comes after, it’s in you, it feeds you and boosts your ego. And you wouldn’t choose any other way. I trembled to knock on your door, random kisses, intentional laughs and the random hotel sex that followed, how you intentionally pulled me into the hotel bar and said “Are you for whiskey?” You know I don’t refuse whiskey, and you even less, wearing mesh stockings. Now I paint your hands on bullets, I polish the trigger. (I’m not the one you love, am I?) I collected…

  • Prose

    Which one inside me will I tear apart first?

    Was being possessed my poor mental health earlier? A new day, a new question. Should I always be the one who hurts and separates from the world every time an alarm goes off because the emotions are released from the mental institution of my body? I realized the demons are guilty, the shame they brought upon a lost soul like mine. That entire picture is now called chemical imbalance. It isn’t some philosophy, to be honest. It was enough to let them out so that they can chew up every thought that seemed somewhat rational to me. That’s like a veil of red mist wrapping around me, a transformational possession…

  • Poetry

    You deserve to be loved

    You’re a collection, love. Of the most beautiful masterpieces, from broken bones and scars under the skin, from suffering and reality; From the truth lurking in the depths of your sad smile, you’re the happiness finding its way through struggles and sorrows, through broken hearts and pain, through indifference and worthlessness, like sunlight shining through the clouds. You’re a collection, love. From teary eyes all night long and visible traces of battles on your hands, days spent inside four walls, running away from daylight. You will ask yourself over and over again, what the bloody layers on the skin are for, what exactly are they talking about and what’s their…

  • Prose

    The dark appearance of the half-dead person

    Have you ever thought about how many of you were dead in other people’s minds? How many wounded replicas of you are walking in the streets, beaten and wounded, hit, raped, left behind, or left to die? Those are the same people but in different bodies. I collect them as they pass by me and keep them pressed between my thoughts and palms, a collection of possible truths, future qualities, and ideas of some pretentious minds. That’s how I collected you, in the pieces that you left exposed at the wrong time of my passing through you. The demon in me says that my suspicion of other people is abnormal.…

  • Poetry

    The Wind

    I will disappear with the wind, one day. I’ll become the wind in the late evening. I will be a part of untouched freedom, I will become that same freedom; I will allow its freedom to free me. One day I will disappear, I will leave numerous traces, on evening walks; in the early mornings, I will become the most beautiful part of the summer. I will also learn to fly, between strands of hair, I will consider them a challenge. I will wear different perfumes, I will enhance and destroy many moments in the remaining lives. I will become a wind someday; I will disappear with it, I’ll be…

  • Abyss of thoughts

    Delusion

    Everything in my stomach is turning upside down at the thought that some people fill themselves with pain and with anger, convincing themselves that it was love. They train themselves to endure the worst storms, they work to devote their entire lives to someone. Someone that love can’t describe, someone who can’t be love…

  • Prose

    The Ecstasy

    The state in which the experience of supernatural enthusiasm dominates, the feeling of endless joy, the highest level of excitement in which a person appears to be leaving the body, loses consciousness and merges with the absolute. Ecstasy as a paranormal game where we find ourselves in the darkest places. We love darkness, but we search for a bright spot, seeking enlightenment. However, there’s a black hole, just between today and tomorrow, between the past and the more distant one. Between current and fundamental emotions. A black hole, timeless levitation, the state in which we fall unconsciously, subconsciously seeking it. Life becomes an intoxicant as if ecstasy acts on the…

  • Poetry

    The shadow of a significant man

    I watched Death, on the side, admiring her, but I never dared to approach her. She seemed so untouchable, so intact and innocent. And then I felt her, so imminent; the bone cavity persistently echoed her name. I could smell her skin. That smell was impossible to ignore. She took me with her, with her thoughts and inside them. I stared at her for hours. It fascinated me. She stood in front of me. I was trembling and swallowing dumplings full of sin and remorse. A cold sweat came over me, emotions evoked the explosion in the eyes. I wanted to dance with her so badly, one last dance. I…