THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

  You say you can only offer friendship for my love,  I say l don't want it.  I want love,  love in big forms,  love that fills every atom around me,  Love that challenges every equation.  I thought you are the one,  the one with whom they would define people.  I'm just fine to ask you to return everything,  Everything that I gave as souvenirs of my love,  Which you received as a friend.  Starting from my starings and nights waiting for your responses.  I turned to be someone I was not, for you,  I spent my time, analysing and making hypotheses on you.  So return my brain cells used for that,  the blood that rushed to my veins,  Every time I saw you.  I want my health and thoughts that I wasted for you,  The souvenirs of my love.  I have murdered my love for you,  One fine night,  I have buried the carcass of my love  In the gardens of hopelessly wandering ghosts.  The...

  I wish to go home to cry,  My eyes have started to blur out,  I can't carry the weight of unshed tears,  But I'm far from home.  My feelings overflow like a spring gushing forth from the earth,  It seeks refuge in moonless nights and  dark corners.  The heart has outgrown, it's no longer of fists size,  It has become indifferent to the aches and scratches.  I wish to go home to cry,  But I can't remember where my home is,  It has become a delusion,  I get the blurred images of the blue windows with yellow curtains,  That swayed in gentle winds,  To kiss the books on the table.  Or was it a yellow window with blue curtains?  I'm unable to figure out the exact picture,  I haven't been home since three seasonal cycles, or four or five.  But I wish to go home to cry,  To cut open myself and heal my heart with yellow flowers,  And to sleep with lavenders under the pillow.  But whic...

  It's funny to think of people who disappear,  They disappear into nothingness Without a warning Without leaving a sign.  I wonder what ponders in their mind During the moments before the disappearance.  They would think of coming back,  Maybe not.  Would they go with a proper plan Or place or a specific medium to travel?  They would probably go for minimalism,  For it would lessen the burden,  the burden of all worldly pleasures The burden of all relationships.  Maybe they would survive,  The disappearance period.  Or they will disintegrate and  Dissolve into seasons.  Or they will be transported to another universe,  Where all seasons come together And day and night  Come simultaneously.  They would experience a new sense of freedom,  Freedom from the monotonous life,  From the caricatures of commoners,  And the ties of restrictions,  From the questionable ways,  Inspiring th...

Every time my heart breaks,  I see a thousand happy faces,  Wandering leisurely,  With peace of mind.  I wonder if they are really happy,  I feel like stabbing them at heart And see it myself.  The happily beating heart.  Every time it happens,  I promise my heart to protect it from happening again.  But my heart doesn't follow reason,  I fall again for cute smiles,  Big cares, warm touches,  And big funny stories.  I make myself ready for the next venture,  As if it is new as if it is the 'one'.  But happy faces pop up after a while,  Reminding me I'm wrong again,  That my home carries no happiness,  It only takes away the existing one.  My mind tries to reason with my heart,  But sometimes my mind falls asleep,  And heart steps out stealthily,  Searching to pour out and cling,  Regardless of seasons and time.  And every time the mind wakes up late,  When it's ti...