Where are you these days?

Still in Istanbul, but I will go to Jakarta in the next months. My shoes are too white for the city rain. My chest feels heavy and my breath is too cold. I’m on a bus to school and the conductor looks kind. He has gentle eyes. In my opposite direction a young woman is dabbing red lipstick on her lips. She has pretty hands. I’m in Beşiktaş and I could taste the sweet of the gelato in my mouth and it makes me believe I want somebody to talk to while walking to the park and all we can speak about is love in our language. I’m in a bar and I smell perfume not liquor. I want to go on a date but I’m scared of vomiting. I prayed I won’t. I’m at home and I’m looking out my window, but really I’m not looking at anything at all. I’m thinking about the old neighbor with greasy hands, who sings to his music in his car in the morning. He might have been a lead singer in the band when he was younger like my father. I’m in a café and I’m sucking a lungful of roasted coffee and exhaled, my sunglasses perched on top of my head. A sparrow had a wonderful fascination with the crumbs she found next to my shoe. I am where I buried my youth, the same day I buried my religion. Known to those who knew why. My dead body was left unmoved in the graveyard that morning. I am lying down in a frame less bed watching the mess my flatmates had made before they went to sleep. I’m in the living room now listening to Ani DiFranco’s “Out Of Habit”. A WhatsApp notification came from an old friend who has his whole foot in my door again asking how I was today. And I know if he was here, he would stare at me and see the ache between up my ribs. I don’t want to imagine him dressed for someone else. How dare he. I want him then when he wouldn’t want me to leave his house. I want him now with his arm on my shoulder while I still care for him so much. Before my tongue speak so much of someone new’s name. I am in front of the chapel and I need to think about my prayers but I don’t know what to pray because whenever I lit the candle all I could feel was anger. I’m moving around yet I don’t know where I am these days. Anyways, I’m moving into my old house soon. I remembered that I need to scatter my aunt’s ashes somewhere. Maybe I will scatter it at the same spot as I want mine to be scattered…


just a casual writer dreaming of closure in life

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