I watch my palms with prayers rising from my heart

I try to separate the thoughts of loneliness from each other by myself.

Whereas it was when I was afraid, but I want to accustom myself to your absence.

I separate all that has passed between us, and only the head-turning result appears before me. Only amazement falls on me after every issue.

I think of the similarities between what I told you and what you told me.

I'm just trying to distinguish between what I've been talking about and what you're thinking. At the end of a one-sided dream decomposition, only nothing comes out. Then it was just curiosity, just indecision, which were thoughts that would reach our lifetimes.

In fact, these were fearless but exciting thoughts. Whereas it was just your silence, my thoughts in the dark.

What he lacked now were the dissociated differences of thought of memories hanging from the past.

The only thing I want to keep in myself in my words that I respect, that I want to add to my life as a plural of trusting friendship bonds only in your presence.

How we love to live the ready. Without effort, far from sincerity, far from love and respect. Whatever we want to understand is back to shopping.

I need a heavy rain

To a strong wind

I need to be ice cold

to be rigid

I need not to understand anything, not to hear

I do not care

I'm sick and tired of fighting

Trying now feels like a waste of time after repetitive people and situations

Disbelief against man

Again, your dejavu face has changed, but I know people in this spirit well, I'm tired because...

This place is full of people from hell

I feel the fire that they will burn.

If it is wrong, there is no correction anymore, if it is wrong, it will burn.

I meant streets and rain, yes. I look at my watch as it moves fast, unconsciously ticking as if overwhelmed by the clouds. It's like the sky has turned into a gray mist that has spilled its blue. With prayers rising from my heart in my palms, I watch the intensity of the rain in the thunder of thunder.

For a moment, I become the hands of a florist woman on the corner with an expatriate stance. Consciousness that keeps his face away from the rain, a little bit of bread anxiety. My eyes touch the heart of sadness at these times.

Is unhappiness a sin? I say quietly!

Then;

I am the eyes of the restaurateur watching the rain behind the window. Looking helplessly at those who come and go. My long silence, that is, distractions lined up in my pharynx.

Take shelter in a tree in the middle of a long street, my eyes are fixed on the child. How hard it is to absorb your helplessness in these times. I stay silently under that tree with my soul sweating.

We are a disgrace when the despair of the sky is revealed.

I'm in the silence that fits the world in one street. Drops of rain fall on my eyelashes. Whoever I look at is talking to himself, picking up his frequency in a whisper.

We are looking

We just look, believe the silence in the middle of our minds and then remain silent. We swallow betrayals that underestimate the pain of the street. We think that silence gives strength, and we are content with this helplessness.

Consciousness should not be poor like a prayer whose altar has been stolen. And one should not emphasize the sorrow on the white paper.

In fact, it was the trust of friendship hanging from yesterday that gave way to my life most of the time.

Your existence, reaching for years, was dominating my thoughts while accompanying my body.

It was the time that reached the solitude of these days from the existence of yesterdays that caused the real body tremors.

Yes, yesterday's close ties were the life force in the absence of these days, with my bond of love that will reach the real years.

I am glad that you have arrived and that you have accompanied a part of my life, it was undoubtedly your unforgettable days.

No doubt your absence will be your absence in my life.

You will remain in my prayers forever my dear friend.