My Words - Blog Posts

Everytime you smile it feels like I am bathing in the warmth of the afternoon sun, slowly disintegrating into the golden swirls that pour from your brown eyes. How often have I melted at your fingertips so that you may scoop me up and paint such beautiful sunsets that tell the stories I have kept locked away. I don't know which is more beautiful, to become a breath taking painting or to be the favourite colour of the painter.

I look up to see his beautiful face.

His eyes are filled with fresh tears.

But there's a smile on his lips.

It seems so true and real.

Yet I know it's far from that.

When his voice cracks as he speaks,

a deep sadness washes over my being.

I can feel it spreading through me.

Touching every secret corner and creek.

I don't know what to do now.

Who do I take care of first, him or me?

I ask myself, as I hold his face with my shaking hands.

His tears are so warm as I wipe them away.

His smile fades and he falls onto me.

While he breaks in my arms quietly,

I let my tears fall finally.

There's only so much strength I have in me.

And I'll use every last bit to piece him back together.

Because I don't know how to be without him.

I don't know why I am, without him.

Without him, I stay a blue question mark.

With him, I'll be a warm full stop.

© Moonyloonywitch

Somedays I crave the touch of another in my soul. I need someone to understand all the chaos inside me but at the same time be intrigued by everything as well. I want to lay down my soul bare, like the musical notes on a white sheet of paper. And I hope someone who appreciates the melody comes along and picks me up. And when they start to hum the tune I have kept hidden in my depths for so long, I'll finally feel like I belong somewhere. Even if that somewhere is just the tip of their tongue or the curve of their lips.

All of this pain feels like it's been an eternity since I have been carrying them in my hands. I am tired now and can't walk anymore. Where do I bury the fragments of my heart?

Grab your dreams in your hands and sprinkle them while you take a walk. Let the others after your time follow the trail and find their own treasure. Because even if you didn't make it, at least they will. And that means you did make it. Planting hope in the depth of a soul is the closest that we humans can come to being gods.

It seems like my heart only understands what you speak, even if you speak with an absence of words.

~

m.l.w

canceled my prime membership today

Grasping ropes that were rotten and on fire

Grasping ropes as I tried to pull myself higher

Away from the water that rises at a speed I can't control

Away from the water that threatens to engulf me cold.

Maybe this is why I sought after ways

To find any sort of control

When I ate, slept and how much pain I felt

For all my bad decisions, my body went through hell.

I'm sick and tired and scared of myself at times

The world gets hazy and I can't breathe well

Someone please, save me from myself.

I'm sick and tired of looking at my arm and only seeing lines.

Filled with guilt and a terrible sense of shame

Filled with fear but I asked for help anyway.

No one's coming I've got to save myself

All I've got is me, in sickness and in health.

So I cradle my heavy heart in my arms

And tell someone I trust, that to myself I bring harm.

"I need help", these words I choked out finally

One big step towards a better rope at the end

I'm slowly making my way towards it,

Are you proud of me yet?

-scaredofmyvoice

Something happened today

Something that made me think.

We went to get food, my friends and I

We went to get food delighted and waiting to buy.

One step closer i get nervous,

Do i really have to eat?

Another step closer,

My heart starts pumping with quickened beats.

We get the food, my friends and I,

One big plate to share amongst us three.

They each grab a spoon and give one to me

They each have a bite and look at me,

Waiting to see if I liked the taste.

Was it always this scary to eat?

Was i always so afraid of their eyes on me?

No, thats not true.

But then whats wrong?

Why can't i eat even though it's what i want?

I stand there awkwardly trying to get a spoonfull

I stand there awkwardly hoping to run away if i could.

In the end I said I didn't want to eat and smiled

In the end , even though I didnt want to I lied.

I thought about it all the way home

And then i thought about it some more.

It makes me sad because I wanted to eat

It makes me mad because I held myself back.

I wanted to be like them when their eyes sparkled at the taste

I wanted to be like them when they ate each bite with no shame on their face.

Im always so ashamed to eat

Even though its a basic need

Im always so ashamed they'd see

And so i hide away behind smiles and a mumbled "Its okay I'm fine"

Something happened today,

Something that made me blink

At the absurdity of my own mind

For making me feel such shame

Over something so small,

Like having a bite.

-scaredofmyvoice

I usually wait till I have atleast a few poems written before I post but this has been on my mind for hours now and I just wanted to let it out.

It's been a rough day guys :<

**The fire within me**

I am afraid -

not of the darkness,

not of the storm

that breaks through the night.

But of it,

of strange hands coming,

quietly, uninvited,

and try

to extinguish the glow in my eyes -

this wild flickering,

that lets me breathe.

Let me burn,

even if it blinds you.

Let me blaze,

even if it frightens you.

Because I am not a spark,

that can be extinguished -

just a star,

that awakens in its own light.

**The light in my eyes**

I am afraid -

not of the fall,

not of the silence,

that sometimes comes.

But of it,

that timid hands

touch my inside

and whisper: *"Don't be so bright. "*

But this light -

it is not a spark,

that can be extinguished,

not a fire,

that consumes.

It is a gentle glow,

that carries me,

a moonbeam,

that cuts through darkness.

Let me shine,

just as I am.

No less,

no more.

"I choose not to respond to these messages.

Because it's a way for me to keep my soul.

Not responding is not disrespectful,

an expression of my self-respect.

The guilt is not mine.

The burden I carry no longer belongs to me.

I want to heal, not fight.

And that's why I hear myself most where I am silent."

“I don’t want to answer without feeling guilty” means “I am at peace with myself now. I don’t have to be right, I just want to be at peace.”

From dear Derya to Derya's heart

I don't write to you anymore, I write to myself. because in this story I was the most tired, the most silent, the most understanding.

All this time I tried to understand you, out of a sense of sisterhood, out of loyalty to the family, out of a debt to the past, but now I realise: understanding doesn't mean I have to forgive.

You have expressed your reality many times. but I tried to swallow my own experiences and feelings.

Each time it stayed in my throat. Even in my dreams it sat in me like raw meat, the taste of which still lingers on my palate.

I don't want that taste anymore.

I no longer try to digest the relationships that hurt me.

I no longer silence myself.

I no longer feel guilty.

And most importantly: I'm on my own side now.

You won't have the last word. Because this is not a court of law. This is my life. And only I decide which door to leave open.

That's enough now.

This letter is not about you, it's about me.

I'm liberating myself.

I'm blessing my fragility.

And finally, I choose to hear my own inner voice.

With love,

Derya

Rainfall, moonlight, deep down is a heartbeat, lookin' at the sky and thinking of you,

dying in my mind... im fallin' through ...Skywaves on the nightsky, tear drop with a light spark,

can you see my liiiiiiight in this niiiiiiight, yeah

youre the one ...i know girl iiiii know everyone is dying young,

i just want to see the riiiiiising suun lie'n on the grouuund

on spring

pastel sunrise, mottled green

flower bloom, thawed stream

spring is upon us, the air is clean

crisp cloud cuts the sky

and there’s a gleam in your eye

an adventure there, and i want to follow

outstretched hand, t-shirts at dusk

grassy knoll, abandoned park

mosquitos buzz and bat them away

air cool and perfumed with the breeze of the day

and there’s a bed waiting when you get home

and the silence is warm when you’re alone

sky open above you and dizzy with fear

the grip of nostalgia never felt so real

until now, grass flat beneath your back

and sand between toes, pretty rock in backpack

teetering on the precipice of all you have known

at once still so young, at once so near grown

living felt stagnant but the answer was clear

every me nested in me, stacked years upon years

the coming of spring still awakens such thrill

and the promise of budding spreads dreams anew:

this was never a middle, as the pond is never still

but the beginning of everything, and everything that will

temporary paralysis

maybe i need practice with heartbreak

maybe if i hold on i'll learn to let go

maybe good things were never destined for me

maybe futures aren't written in stone

i hate when things change

i want everyone to stay

people in my mind are unpredictable

and rarely comply to the rules of real life

it feels like a sort of self-harm,

to throw myself into it again

this cannot be good for me

every instinct tells me to protect,

every experience tells me to listen to my qualms

withdraw, reel back, just stop, deflect

my hope is incessant and endless,

don't talk to me if you don't want a fright

my spark of interest cannot be drowned

when i wake up and remember myself,

it will be you on my mind

until i create a caricature in my head

until i forget your face,

your actions wrought by shadowed features

memories in feeling, if not in sight

a day stretched into a year of groundhog memory

don’t hurt me, i want to tell everyone that talks to me

don't make me care for you when you won't care for me,

it will only make me hate you

and it only takes one night and one day

for nothing to be the same again

sleepless

it whispers to me, 

it wants to know

it will not quiet

it can’t let go

beside my pillow,

loud beat of heart

it cannot stop,

it cannot start

curiousity disquiets the head

circulate, metabolism

energified, stomach dread

tap of toe, pick of finger

sensual slide of bared leg

i cannot settle, unscratched itch,

i will not ever be at rest

three thousand

the days pass so quickly,

resolutions so fickle

and there is something old, very old, inside me

that spits on it all

the lecherous gluttony and

sick indulgence, stuffing soft, pink bellies

full to bursting

built into that, a stopping point

the shining stretch of flesh, hesitant,

untested, afraid to try

energy must exist in equal balance,

and the beast takes

yawning cavernous hunger,

a need never satiated, swallowing the world.

hurting, hunting,

it does not forget – it does not want to forget.

content in its loathing, superior in a void.

hating and hating.

but it forgets itself

fed by another hand, before it learned to take.

hurt by another's mouth, before it learned to snap

someone else's creation, it is not itself

it is residue,

it is fear

the days pass so quickly,

without reprieve, in delay

i walk alongside them,

and the beast always stays.

on winter

come winter, i am flimsy,

waxen paper on dry breeze

crumpled by the pressure, and

hardened by the cold

come winter, i can’t. 

every breath hurts to breathe

frost forced down your lungs, 

spider fingers in your veins, it

peels off your jacket

it ignores whimper of pain

biting your skin,

frozen heartbeat gone

come winter, it hurts

and you don’t want to fight

it is someone else,

naked, battered,

beaten, bruised 

but it is you, knocking on that door

it is you, begging to be let in

ember dying in the cold,

frost-bitten fingertips and

stone cold pit to be thawed.

it is you, feathers sodden by rainfall

petrichor dirt freshly churned on your grave

and desperate plea,

and hope for something better

it is you, who shakes off the water

and emerges, drenched in warmth,

ready, now, yearning, 

to be set alight

breezeblock

it is beautiful, quietly beautiful

it needs no announcement nor gaudy proclamation of arrival

gentle patter of snowfall,

whispered brush of leaf

it is there through blustering sunshine

it is there in deadened sleep

the silence is a thing in itself, the

backdrop of every play

you are never not without it

it's patient, it lies in wait

and when you are ready for it, though you may never be

going out a thing of rage,

riotous against the peace

they'll tie you to the bed

and you'll spit out useless fury

it will greet you, with open arms and heart

it begs you to forgive

but you're animal, not god

and love spawns hatred in your heart

when you're tired and heaving

back bent and wrists red,

the silence will creep

aimless night will descend

and if you've never lived without sound

the quiet is unfamiliar, in the end

it's just you and the trees, and they're scary, yes

but they are soft,

but they are friend

to the one --

you’ve been forever a lack,

a hole, an absence

i cannot imagine you,

because i idolize you

i want, so desperately, for you to be

an absence yet constant presence

you lurk, a nagging feeling

an abcess, an itch

and yet i could not seek you out

because a part of me still thinks

we will crash on the street,

or touch hands at the bookstore,

we’ll smile shyly and pass,

gazes will linger

amid flashing lights or buzzing drone,

or elevator music, or raucous home

any way that would seem

like the stars drew our fate

but you can’t argue that from a swipe,

so it scares me, to find you that way

in the pit, the emptiness of my soul

when i should’ve been looking to the ones who fill,

to the excess, to the outpouring

to the ones i know.

you are quiet giggle

confession stuck as it leaves,

weaving through the crowded street

you are late nights texting,

and the last one to put the phone down,

and borrowed shoes for the night or the week,

and fingers gripping my back when we hug

you taught me ‘i love you’ when i leave the car,

and you taught me to face what i truly felt

you taught me it would turn out okay,

and you taught me when to fight back

love is a whole,

tangible and real

i’ll recognize you when i see you

when i know you, it will mean

i was not fixed,

didn’t find my other half

you were never the first,

you will not be the last

cowardice (2)

it's not you now, its something else

it's easier to love

a vesicle for influence,

torpid machine of thought

and its better this way, it doesn’t hurt

when someone hurts something you’re not

but when the colors blur,

it always comes to end

in the darkness of the bedroom,

in the darkness of your head

when you close your eyes to sleep

when there’s noone there to tell you

a part of you, the one thats you,

always, it will know:

the truth is the lump in your throat,

the truth is in dexterous hand

the truth is in a crooked smile,

pointing to the sand

they taught you to hate yourself,

but what you should hate is them

we were borne from the lake,

to the lake we meet our end

the mirror was not meant to be

neither silver nor black facade

something we weren’t meant to see,

wan face reflected back

it's your fingertips on petals,

it's your toes in the grass

it's your lungful of fresh air,

even if it is your last

you wish to fulfill potential,

you wish that you were tough

don’t weep nor mourn what cannot be

you always were enough

i miss it

i miss our stupid conversations. i miss laughing with you. i miss sitting next to you, the silence being one of the most comfortable things ever. i miss telling you about my day. i miss asking you your day. i miss being able to message you whenever i did something dumb. i miss being able to approach you when something stupid happened. i miss ranting to you. i miss sending you stupid memes and you never laughing at them. i miss your motivational speeches.

i miss the person i was when i was with you.

Ay benim gece de benim🌙

That’s all I need man, a glass of wine and peace of mind

I wish the rain drops don’t mind the tears in them

Sometimes holding on is painful than letting go

Isn’t it beautiful how a scary night can turn into a satisfying day!

I wonder if you have a song that reminds you of me.

I wonder if I'm one of the first thing you think of when you just woke up.

I wonder if you ever wish I was by your side even for some moments.

I wonder...