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Feelings and words heavy with lead bouncing inside me
I drew miles in your eyes of the pain that hit my head in that breeze.
I was the hallucination of a call, the miserable loneliness I fell into before sleep, maybe the years I was listening to.
I am a reckless and tactless alphabet:
I am far from anyone who is narrow-minded, or I do not enjoy the alluring myths that wash up in wide sectarian climates, where I take shelter in the lead-heavy emotions and words that ricochet inside me.
I couldn't digest what I ate yesterday:
Two bagels, three or five cookies.
I praise my ongoing hunger today and the travel dreams hanging on the bars of my stomach and while drinking a strong tea, I drown in your lines.
I hate teabags and obsessive sentences, and that willow tree I planted inside me.
Worried all day.
I look forward to the night.
Seher is unimaginable.
Ah, my wandering body, my miserable heart.
And here I spell love.
Are you familiar with it?
Or is it an extraordinary feeling that makes me so much more than me?
Stardust sticking to my tail?
I don't like being a star tonight and I'm throwing my name in the space trash, it's obvious as the day I was born just to be a flower and wither.
And when I was the first eye pain of my family.
Ah, my life with a sore head, I call like a call center and give my heart to busy people, of course, my mindless cell phone.
It's my phone number that I constantly canceled within a month, and I don't even remember how many times I changed my phone number, and the interesting and funny thing is: I registered my name to myself and my phone number is registered in the title of my own name.
I'm looking for myself when I'm bored, of course I can't reach myself.
And I laugh a lot, but only to myself.
I am looking for myself.
Ah, my only luxury when I was love, and the world I associate with love.
I'm looking after I find what I'm looking for.
And here comes my prayer time and never leaves me unanswered, my beautiful Lord.
The day is gone.
He overturned the pan at night.
Long live the morning prayer, when I was alone with my Lord, and when I was dressed as the happiest and most peaceful person in the world and of course, when the call to prayer heard from the outside, I read my heart and run to my Lord:
Good God, I came, I came.
While he is always by my side and he knows my inner voice and good intentions, and while my tears are flowing, my wish has been met more than I have ever been, while I answered his call called eternity.
While my search lasted a lifetime without slowing down, I came across myself for better or worse.
Peace and sadness are the intersection point of the feelings that make me feel free, and this time I leave my star identity to the void and this time I pray for my dead.
His father's only rose, his only daughter, his only flower:
While waiting for me for a long time, my family and my father decide on my name "Dear" and my first name: my middle name when I was inherited from my deceased aunt.
I am in a dilemma because when I was as distant and inaccessible as the stars.
I am in a dilemma because being a flower attracts me and I love to open and fade and I think of her beautiful eyes:
"Kiss first, then give birth to me, mother."
I am hidden in the womb of the universe, where I have died many times and come to life many times, I am still inwardly like a fetus and I take my life back every time I die and find life.
My lifeblood is of course love.
As in my yesterday, I greet the tomorrows that accompany the day.
The eyes of love.
I swing in my temple.
Sometimes on the threshold, sometimes in the cradle.