u/edeaflores

Anımsayabildiğim kadarıyla, eskiden bir şölen­di yaşamım, saçtığım çiçeklerin, tüm şarapların aktığı bir akşam. Güzelliği dizlerime oturttum.

Onu. Sövdüm.

Silahlandım tüfeğe karşı.

Kaçtım. Ey büyücü kadın, ey umutsuzluk, ey kin, şeytanlık! Ey büyücülük!

Cehennem çağrımı kabul etti: çamurların, kanın boğulmak için tek tanındığı mutsuzluk, cehenneme uzandım. Suç, güneşin altında kurulanmış. Deliliğe yanaşan bir oyun oynadım. Budalalığımı korkunç gülüşünü taşıdım.

İlk yaz yeniden kabartabilecek olan eski şölenin anahtarını aramayı düşündüm. İştahım belki de yeniden doğmayı düşürür: bu anahtar. Belki ki düş görmüştüm, bu düşünce onu gösteriyor.

Alnımı o camı haşhaş çiçekleriyle defneleyen iblisim haykırıyor: "Sen hep sırtlan kalacaksın..." "Tüm iştahlarınla, bencilliğinle ve büyük günahlarınla ölümü hak etmeye bak."

Ah! Ölümden fazlasıyla aldım payımı: - Ama, sevgili Şeytan, senden tek dileğim, daha az öfkeli bir göz ve bu arada birkaç da gecikmiş küçük alçaklık. Yazarın öğretim ve eğitim yetilerinden yoksun olmasını bilirim pek seversin, işte koparıyorum senin için şu birkaç iğrenç sayfayı lanetli defterimden.

🍷

Sometimes a person doesn’t want to die, they just want to escape the sound of their own mind. And I’ve been rotting in the same room with a version of myself I can never silence for a very long time.

I walked while the city slipped away beneath my feet,

And there you stood, in the middle of a drenched night, under that pale harsh glow.

Your eyes were dark, but I swear they were enough to blind me.

“I’m going to steal you,” you said, your voice like a knife carving through my flesh,

And that was the moment my real beginning started.

Let everyone hate us, let the whole world collapse onto our backs — what does it matter?

We left behind all those proper, boring rules of the world.

I won’t lie to you; this isn’t a clean story, you know that.

But for you, I threw everything away at the edge of that bottomless abyss.

Forget running away — we’ve already escaped into each other.

Let even our own eyes fail to see us; this madness belongs only to us.

Look, above us the sky is a pitch-black void,

But those stars, those lonely little sparks,

They burn as if they exist only for us.

“That darkness is saying, “You will belong to me.”

But I was already yours long ago.

I’m soaked to the bone, I’m freezing, the seams of my soul are coming apart,

But even this cold feels beautiful when I’m with you.

I would never betray you, never leave you alone inside this darkness.

Even if the weight on my back were heavy enough to crush the world,

Falling apart in your arms would still feel like healing to me.

So now tell me, for the sake of those rain-soaked sidewalks and that silent night:

Are you with me, baby? In this beautiful disaster, are you with me until the very end?

🍷

The sky was a blue lie,

and beneath it, the price of breathing was silence.

Rather than sit upon that throne

where the sun blinds your eyes,

I chose to descend, colliding with the truth of shadows.

My wings did not burn;

they merely shed the falseness of white

and let their feathers take on their own color.

They called me a “loser,”

yet I had never searched for anything to lose.

I simply began walking

where ownership came to an end.

Instead of those cold marble steps of obedience,

I leaned into the dirty yet honest embrace of the earth.

Now look at my hands:

there is neither a heaven promised by the sky,

nor a hell invented by cowards.

Only a freedom seeping from embers,

and that stain which whispers to you

the nobility of darkness

in the first light of every morning.

I am the one born where light ends;

it was never I who burned—

only the narrow garment they forced upon me.

I became ash, dissolved into the wind,

and only then

did I finally reach myself.

🍷

The seams of time are bursting; the hours no longer move forward, they only expand toward me. As the distance between myself and the ceiling shrinks, I realize how mechanical and humiliating a dependency breathing truly is. With every swelling of my lungs, I feel the shameless claws of the survival instinct.

Sleep is not surrender, but a rehearsal for annihilation. And I refuse the rehearsal. In this war I wage against myself to keep my eyelids open, I know exhaustion will be the only victor. Still, I would rather stare into the monsters created by my own mind than fall into that dark void. Because to sleep is to become a defenseless heap of flesh; to abandon yourself to the mercy of a killer or the cruelty of a dream.

Somewhere inside me, an old clock is ticking — rusty and furious. I no longer dare to look into the mirror, because I know the thing staring back at me is no longer “me,” but merely a silhouette gnawed away by sleeplessness. That sour taste gathering in my stomach is not the residue of disgust toward the world, but toward myself directly.

In this emptiness where I have been thrown like a dog, there is no gravity, yet there is a crushing sorrow. I am as distant from everything as that stray animal drifting through space. Sounds grow muffled, images bleed into one another. Every ache that reminds me I am human is proof of the pathetic biological prison I have been locked inside.

Now, I wait for the light to seep through. But the sunrise will not be salvation — only a lie draped over the darkness. Amid the smoke of that great explosion within me, I wait with the restless comfort of finding yet another reason to hate myself.

🍷

That poisonous silence coursing through your veins

Takes root a little deeper each time you clench your teeth.

Your soul, within that damp dungeon you built yourself,

Reeks like a corpse left to decay.

The deeper you bury it, the more your voice becomes a rasp;

Every suppressed scream, a rusty nail driven into your flesh.

That monster within you devours you the longer it starves,

The light has long since died in the labyrinth of your mind.

Break those rusted shackles, let your wrists bleed if they must;

What they call honesty is sometimes the sharpest blade.

For the greatest sin of your fragile heart

Is burying yourself alive within this silence.

🍷

-

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/mMmjxc9Lu5

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/y7oCv9nztO

I feel like a brand new person, but I'll make the same old mistakes. So, how will I know if I've gone too far?

Today I wore black lace underwear,

just so I could know it was there inside me.

And beneath it, I am naked.

And I have a body, a body that stretches for miles.

I have a body wrapping all my thoughts like cling film.

It is transparent, visible.

Leftovers from the night before.

And unlike what you think, my body is soft, smooth.

And easily bruised.

But what does it matter? What do you care about the softness of my body?

What my fingers do in the dark is what you wonder about.

And if all they do is open windows

so I can see the lightning flashing between the clouds?

What if all they want is to climb a child’s ladder

just so I can breathe clean air?

~ 🌑

It began with the great theft they committed when they gave me a name;

They pasted a label onto my soul,

Like a fresh agent, ink still wet and un-dried.

Yet I was, before the world even opened its mouth,

Only a void; boundless, limitless, and free.

Who was I?

Before words turned my mind into a prison,

When I had not yet grown hostile to any mirror...

Now a stranger grows inside me;

It holds the glass with my hands, looks down the road with my eyes.

The world whispered to me who I was,

And that day it killed the divine silence within me.

My God, the world clothed me so heavily

That I can no longer recognize my own nakedness.

🍷

-

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/7t0oBtaobP

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/1Y3rfyEA5N

How silent the world is.

Echoes, dusty goblets,

walls.

How peaceful it is to embrace my own shadow.

Peace. Yes.

The shadow no longer holds you,

Darkness begins

to swallow you.

Ḣ̴͜i̴̭̍c̴͚͝k̴̠̍ n̵̻͊o̴̰͝ ̷͜͝s̵̰̈o̵̥̾u̴̪̅n̷̠͊d̴̯͒ ̷̰̈r̵̰͝e̸̯͗t̷̝̾u̸̻̾r̶̰̿n̴̪̽s̷̪̽

You are drowning.

T̸̖͠í̷͈m̵̨̈́ḛ̸̍ ̵̰̈́s̷͎͒t̴̘͝o̴͓͝p̶̩͠s̸̪͋

The gears of time sink into your flesh.

Your existence fades away.

Ĭ̷͕ ̵̰̉n̴̰͌ẻ̷͈v̴̗̾ę̴͗r̶͚̋ ̷̰̈e̶̠͝v̶̱̔ḛ̴̎n̴̪̍ ̶̰̈́ë̷̩́x̶̝̾i̶̦̾s̷͉͌t̶̳͗e̶̻͑d̸̻͑

I'm sorry.

B̸̖̑ö̴̗́n̴̾͜ḭ̶̾ẻ̸̖s̷̰̈́ ̶̈́͜c̴̰̓o̶̓͜l̵̩̾l̸͕̾i̷̥̾ḋ̸͈e̶̟̓ ̶͈͗ẘ̷͕ḭ̵̀ẗ̵̪ḫ̸̈́ ̷͉̾e̴̹̾a̵̟͋c̶̛̙ẖ̴̓ ̴̙̎ö̵͈t̸͇͘ḧ̶̻́ḛ̷̏ȑ̸̰

Ḇ̶͠u̵̠̎ẗ̴͈ ̶̥͝n̶̠̊ȯ̵̪ ̴̨̎ȍ̴̠ṉ̴̐ḛ̶̆ ̴̬̎h̸͈̓ḛ̵̀a̶͈̿r̴̯͠s̶̼͝ ̷̦̊t̶̰̑h̴̖͌ẽ̷̟ ̸͚̃r̶̖͆ḩ̴̓y̵͈̎t̸͈̎h̶͈̎m̸͈̎

It embraced me not like a dark abyss,

but like the arms of an old friend.

It was too late to run anyway—

and who truly wished to leave?

I left behind the deceitful shimmer of light at the doorstep,

and when I closed my eyes,

the world became nothing but silence.

The boundaries of my existence slowly dissolved within the room.

The objects forgot me, and I forgot the stranger in the mirror.

As the heavy, misty texture of black touched my skin,

the endless noise inside my soul finally faded,

leaving behind a profound peace.

I no longer had borders;

I was merely an endless void.

I curled myself into the very center of silence,

wearing the indescribable lightness of being unseen.

There was neither anticipation within me, nor fear;

inside the womb of blackness,

I was like a dream yet to be born.

No one could see me,

yet for the first time, I felt completely whole.

Because once darkness filled me from within,

no light outside could ever take my shadow away from me again.

🍷

You are much more resilient than you think, and in the end, you will find the way out of that labyrinth once again with the strength inside you.