Heartache..

I condemn love.

This is part of the literature of dry amphibians.

Their eyes never got wet,

Crying has become a miracle.

To be loved is a difficult blessing to reach,

Yet loving is so easy.

A child waiting in the dark, with a teddy bear with torn arms in hand,

Awaiting the needles and the knitwork to pierce their skin in fear.

A young girl with a knife in hand,

Forced to live and love unwillingly when she is about to stab it to relieve her chest pain.

In a pond where euthanasia is a hazy dream;

Amphibians are struggling not to stay dry, swimming with their waterproof skins to reach the water.

Nature’s vampires are laying their eggs in filth only to be parasites for the world,

Their blood pouches are horribly full for the newcomers.

Those who exploit others, those who want to remove their own battery of life, those who are forced to live and are hypnotized to live...

I condemn love.

These are merely dramatic lyrics of dry amphibians.

Their eyes never cried throughout their lives.

You always want to laugh but your mouth is stitched shut,

You want to blink from fatigue but are always forced to sleep on your feet.

“The fear of death is useless” has become a motto.

Terrifying scenarios haunts their minds,

Somes are even more frightening than the death.

It seems this world’s issue is not about being happy or not,

But living and merely living.

Aquatic creatures, unable to keep hearts full of souls enslaved to love and deprived of the right to hate.

The construction of nihilism that vacuums and swallows emotions,

And in this strange sea that is only part of the literature of dry amphibians,

I condemn love.

How strange and painful it is to have hope, that sweet thing, not in dreams but in reality.

Because in dreams there is no need for hope;

We don’t hope in dreams, it doesn’t even cross our minds.

Hope, as if only to play a fake happiness like there’s a cure for helplessness and maybe a slight motivation tool.

There is no place for helplessness in dreams, those which exists are merely a painful scenario to create a random event under the name of drama.

We excuse this chest pain with the traumas we’ve experienced and it is so right barely.

Not because ending life is a silly idea and we know it’s silly.

I condemn the love for death.

We hope to drift away with the current in this literary work.

Even if we can’t cry, the water that wets our face gives this effect enough.

We might still feel dry and pale, and we might miss the blood that doesn’t flow from within us, but this action-filled breathing as we drift in the sea gives us enough of this nonexistent sweat effect.

I thought I was wrong when I said respecting life is mandatory,

For a moment I felt like part of a delusional illusion and a beginningless cycle.

Would I be able to say these if I didn’t enjoy these heartaches?

Maybe pain adds spice to our literature.

A pink flame that warms our hearts and still goes on alive in the water,

It’s infatuated with us

But I still condemn love.

The fact that the soul is very real and love is not a lie might be the main thing that forms our literature.

This is a reflection, a realistic illusion, and a happy moment.

That child who's waiting in that dark corner,

A young boy with his gun to his head,

A girl holding her lighter in her hands,

A young girl grazing her toy knife on her chest…

They all continued their lives without taking their own lives in their quest to create meaning in their lives.

Because their dramas couldn’t bring them to the wetness they desired.

They turned this rich pond of dry amphibians into a jacuzzi for their pleasure.

In the midst of meaninglessness, they created a feast and a pleasure water.

They stayed afloat with their fears, problems, and loves.

I believe my supposed dislike for life is just a delusional illusion.

In this dramatic piece I created, I feel I belong somewhere.

Uttering the word hate is shameful and I didn’t need to use the word hate in this piece except for this sentence.

Because hate without revenge and unwilling evil is called “not loving.”

It’s so innocent not to love.

It’s like the opposite of loving.

Sometimes they work together even if we don’t realize it.

Their symbiotic union is a life motto for us.

And I only say this with this motto:

Even if I can be uneasy in the midst of peace, this will never tire me.

In fact, I feel wetter, cooler, and more peaceful than ever, and this is how I also will feel on further ways.

Flicker is what comes congruent to him

Carries his passion for repercussions

Lamp held upon the unseen revelry

The revulsion of pleas' arrival...

Resonating in a mold fidelity

Forgets knocking if it's taken as rival

Knowing the valid Januaries coming

Tuning to too for getting into

It is not the precaution but a compulsion

Living like wrapped in a polyester fabric

Puncturing the air filled orbs

Inhibited mouth of the pencil

It is not that it's gone to madness

This is what's called inflammation

Never getting the replications wanted

Wished attempts the others' advices

Anticipating the fatality instead

But still granting the "wanting"

Italicizing the commas, flagellating the dot

Resolution of a human in front of a cliffhanger

Pride of savvy the nouns for a short life brander

Resurrection is when it's needed to believe in

It is all happening in a trembling pupil looks towards the life's frontline

Rejuvenating when the expiration of the oneself comes

Wishing this life would be having a lighter meal

Representing when the love of others' showing the signs to oneself

Accompanying this life is what he wishes most

Periods are unable to reach periodicity

Striking back is what they all care about in the time

He doesn't care that though

He just wants to feel prolapsing with the fear he is carrying inside

It has never gone too far till the madness had seen in the horizon

That's what we say losing oneself in booze to this

The sonority is not enough to get the wanted from the far-line

Provisionlessness sequence feels unreal even though it is sprawling in front of the eyes like a feast

Waiting the crash

Still serving the cheese and chocolate sauces

Magnificence is sitting on the throne of divinity

Proud of the oneself with the scratches on the hard skin

Criminal offensiveness...

It is all being seen inside the pupil

Scared to tell the one's story

Slinging heart shaped tears

Smiling tired and letting the water flux through the countenance

Just holying and giving too much to that lunacy on the moon's light side

Vagary or just a small twist he is showing

Syncromania of love and this fatigue

Scared to face the life still

Watching the scenery with amazement

Still loving but so exhausted

So much that he cannot walk anymore

He needs to rest and sit somewhere instead of tiring the legs more

It is all for closing the eyelid and blurring the pupil's vision

Untouched lock mark,

Waiting to be open by the curiosity.

Key's synchrony and the integration purity...

Choking bubbles with heat up exhales...

Dijilife, dijital matters;

Thinking of manners on the mattress,

Found position and the continuing tire.

Boring monochrome feeding up the monotony.

Loving, waiting, standing while sitting and just thinking.

Soft sweet tiny merriness or the shiver effect,

Unchosen choices under the time limiting fact...

Key is held between finger tips,

Trembling in front of the stuttering shut of the door.

Loving, dreaming, hoping unnecessarily inside the hypothetical epiphany.

Things beyond the way,

On the other side: Stuck inside the coil binding.

Not liking, lingering, counting the minutes by putting the clock as a rival.

Nonstop teleportation lines,

Color spectrums and the lingering pixel loading,

Candy background melody and the sour taste in the front...

Awaiting the rescuer.

Connecting: Dreamy Portion,

Drinking the sugar juice called potion.

A prince's on feet-arrival detected,

Hoping behind the locked gate ways.

Calling: Key-Room,

Can feel the impatience drool.

Loving, looking, being attracted by the appreciater one's shot towards the phony heart lines.

Shape of the voices or the heard colors,

Unchecked rules and the imaginary miracles...

Loving, wishing, not liking that comes as a present of the sickness and the ambivalance.

Pieces of the future,

On the other side: The Burden of Following the Past as a destiny mold.

Hating, fading, feeling bondless as the only solution if the real world does not give any happiness.

Nonstop dreaming signals,

Emergency calls and the lingering loading screen,

Creepy daze of a mixture with notifications and the unknowns...

Still waiting the manifestation of hope, the prince's shine.

Connecting: Hazardous Plaything,

Greetings for the joy sting;

Hoping beyond the reality.

Reaching: Key-Room,

Can see the ways to turn to crazy.

Giggling, laughing, believing even though knowing what is the real and the predicted result.

Can see the unseenable ones if its used only instead of eyes that can see what it seems only.

Praying over the non-existing script author to live a lie instead of a real pain.

Risks and love signs;

Divine rules and pixelated till the one last point is colored with green, red or blue.

Who needs a handsome guy over a white knight horse!

Ready to use those tiny hands and steady to stop keeping the door shut.

The key hole is nothing but a simple space over a chocolate bar.

The melody fades away if there is no one left in the key room.

What to do if that is all just a principal game that keeps the detention away and denies the healthy reals?..

Prince is not going to come,

The wrong key is held.

Empty more than before after the fakes' cover was removed.

Is this way better than the tales?

Is it better to live lifeless instead of livin-.. lost in a horrible lottery game of always losing?

Lifelessness can be filled with love and obliged-alive needs?

Can this key room lock the gate that includes the phony belongings?

Ready to throw them on a corner to let them be forgotten

And then rebirth with the passion towards living.

You say, you're all about the money

Of your says, you want more money

Don't you fear that I'll leave you honey

Cause you feel love (only) to be wealthy

Stay away, don't soak my heart I pray

Lay down here, you'll be go soon already

Play your play, don't think I am so naive

Stay with him, hope this'll give you big pain

Sleep on him, fun of temporary joy

Don't be afraid of giving birth for a babe

Precaution, don't you know it

All you know is to fool yourself, how foolish

Lions are staring a'each other, in the kitchen ghost plays pie baker

Oven has burnt and the pan was boiling, eruption will be triggered so soon

They both do not care their cosy home, they're filling air with their flares

Smoke pumps from ears with flying curses; my dear, cruel brother's still smoking

Life is pain if you bleed woe instead of "Yay!"s

What do they think this is except being in a flood

Pens had drew fake smirks and bells on our gray skirts

Blood pool, bloodmoney, fear of an unknown taste

Trustworthy worths to find at least in this house

We cut ourselves and then paste with bad pastry

Awaiting clear skies to see the pure sun

Let me forget you both for infinity

Because you say, will is nothing but money

Of your words, the wallet wants more coin

Don't you see the walls you're breaking

Cause you feel passion for money gift of laziness

Endless loves in the purity of stories of imagination

Soft and weak chains of happiness being broken by desires

The joy gives toys, they steal attention from this lovely couple

Voice of cries make the hardest stones even cracked

The whole fleeways from you

Stay away, don't marinate my heart

Leave my dawns, you'll be sat under the sun's line soon

Play your game, get the most points of joy

Giggle with him, hope this'll rip your phony smiley lips

Let him sleep on your cutesy belly

Don't be afraid of loving a bundle of fun

Prevention, forgot it?

All you know is sinful benefit, how greedy

The stories and bonds..

Complexes and being lost in details when ascending downer

What makes a human's secret important is not how or how much he/she hides it

But the embarrassment it feels

Scared to tell those tales and being afraid of being understood

Who counts on while counting the days of antipathy

Suffocating while trying to exist without being seen

Thinking of adding more to our lives but losing one thing as a debt and leaving it aside

The ID of the smile seems pretty enough but it is just the patience of waiting the overflew

Done to death emotions

Those heart lines and the huge mess of the mind confession

Crying at a corner while waiting for those antipathic days

Searching for mercy and respect for the wanted solitude

Scared to sleep in the dark and being afraid of losing the sparkles

That secret is still being kept,

Held under this tiny light

Crawling in silence, stepping slow and surer than ever with the unknown of what 5 minutes ahead brings

The marsh of wood and the murmuring girl in another room

A family under the same roof but not sharing the life

The embarrassment is buried by the psychosis

Creating an imaginary world and being far from the real matters

The tiny pieces of love and hatery

All being put in bottles

Covering them with aluminum foil

To wait the moment when it needs to be used

Being kept and hidden just like the secret

The bullets of banter hits different

The pills of dreaming and the pain of unreaching the imagined one

The secret is still held still,

Left under this tiny light.

Groom in white and the bride's black

The passion and sensation expo

Sceneries of fascination and the little peace with physical silence

But the voices are always kept inside

Lingering the happiness and the disturbance by violation of privacy

The businessman tie and suit feels scary

Hides the urge of sex and the pleasure of machine-self

Creeping slowly as ever and leaning downer to crouch under the table

The safety does not belong to where you are locked but where you feel you are closed

Tiny pieces of relief and telling those stories of past and the willing futures

The fault of thinking of what necessary is just to tell to anybody

But that little girl just prefers to being kept under the tiny light in peace

The melancholy and the dark blue light of the wooden home

She is not waiting to be illuminated or to be shared

Being shared is just being cut in pieces

Lingering the overwhelm and waiting under the street lamp

Far from the horrifying stuff and smiling for the real happiness

The tiny pieces of relief and being unspecial

Feels lighter than ever

Showering under the light to feel the joy of watching the scenery

The secret is still being kept

Held within the heart

The embarrassment what is making oneself who it is now

The light touch of the sparkles and the shards of hopes

The scary seemed power and the wanting of being kept in safety by the other one

Nothing else matter

Nothing else is a regret

Nothing is a different

Nothing else is a shame

The love of touch and unthinking the reality

Unquestioning the reasons and the results

They hit harder then ever

Failure and the success does not matter for her

The peace keeps the silence living on

Holds the secret still

I imagine myself somewhere right now:

A black forest and a white sky, covered with clouds.

There is a swing, it creaks a little but not too disturbingly.

The only sound is that and occasionally the unknown wind sound.

There is no one in this realm, just me.

It may seem very lonely, but I think it's peaceful.

I wish this was a place I could come to whenever I wanted.

But it only remains in my imagination.

People find it strange, but I don't understand why...

Is it because it's black, white, and gray?

Nonsense.

I don't understand what's scary about it.

If you know you're alone, it's not a problem.

Isn't our reason for being afraid of such places because we don't know if there's someone else there?

What if there's already someone and they're following me.

A creepy-looking, crazed stalker...

A black suit and a businessman look,

A terrifying face,

Eyes that never tire or close,

The only somewhat colorful thing here...the only thing that shouldn't belong here

Colors.

Just like on that person.

Sometimes I can't love primary colors

Green, blue, yellow, red...

I just want to see black and white and a completely bright world

A place where the mystery of emotions is preserved but you don't have to think about anything or a place where, when you want to think about something, your mind won't be disturbed, the best place

A world where no one blames me for condemning love

A world where I am genderless

A realm where I don't dream of the future, where there is no such thing as a future

I am very happy right now!

I don't know, but I get excited about such a place...sometimes

Colors sometimes just seem to create chaos to me

Sometimes very simple and expressionless things:

Red...they sometimes say it's the color of power

I just see violence, aggression, and the desire to crush someone in this color

Blue...they sometimes say it's the color of peace and tranquility

I just see depression, anxiety, and selling the soul for money in this color

Yellow...they sometimes say it's the color of positivity or being energetic

I just...I don't know, I don't feel much

Neither energy nor anything positive in this color

Green...some say it's the color of nature and the golden mean

Sometimes I agree, but mostly I don't feel anything in this color except for an inexplicable disgust

I see a delusion in this color that makes you believe everything has a middle and justice

There are some colors I love and they make me feel very meaningful

Even sometimes when I get tired of black and white, I turn to them

Purple...most people say it's the color of wisdom

I see the color of mystery and the inescapable truth of this realm - for me - the unknowability, and it creates a very impressive motto for me

Brown...most people...I don't know what they say about this color

I see the color of proof that not being special and being ordinary brings the greatest happiness and it makes people create their own reasons and purposes for living without needing any reason for life

A very important thought and feeling for my motto...ordinariness and existentialism

Pink...most people say it's the color of femininity - utter nonsense - and sweetness

But for me, this color is much more special and its meaning is deeper

As I explain this, I smile with a tired expression

You know, when the eyes look sad but the lips take the shape of a smile, like that.

When I see pink, I think of my own life and orientations:

Hiding from people, being able to lie, creating a fake happiness to be happy, trying to give the best to people, and being happy when people are happy, sacrifice, friendship, love, fake tears, and the art of drama...

Like an antidote thrown among the negativities, but actually a color that can be very pessimistic inside, yet still manages to remain positive and full of life.

Just like me.

That's why I love pink so much.

Sometimes I can't find a meaning to live, but it doesn't make me very unhappy.

I never saw being happy as a purpose for living.

Being happy is just a gift

Although I say it's just a gift, it's actually a very big thing for me and most people

Just living and going with the flow...

All the events that happened...

All the traumas and experiences...

Memories captured always in the mind instead of with a camera...

A heart full of spirit, some wounded, some surrounded by a fake wall.

In this heart where I try to condemn love, I live pink to the fullest along with other colors I love.

Sometimes they give me such motivation...sometimes I feel like blending primary colors and almost all other colors together.

A simple and sweet look...

My obsession with sweetness...

A deep scene and dramaturgy...

These colorless buildings, colorless trees, and everything colorless in this black-and-white universe are actually different for me...

The only reason I love this so much is "selfishness" and "the desire to escape"

What do I mean...

I'm selfish because, while there are already colors in the world, sometimes it can be difficult to live the color you want, and when everything is colorless (black or white), I can imagine them in the color I want.

I say I'm selfish because I feel like most people live their lives with existential pains and I feel like they are forced to close their dreams and mottos.

I don't see myself as superior, never.

I'm saying their lives might be like that from my perspective.

I'm selfish because if they can do it, why can't I?

We are all human in the end, but I chose to escape.

I say escape because this realm is only a product of imagination...

Just black and white or the colors I want or a riot of colors

Because I'm so scared and weak...

Because I feel so abstract and fake, this sometimes feels like the only place I can be real

But sometimes this world of people...seems very fun, even if it can be cruel and unhappy

Sometimes it's a place where we can be happy even if it's fake

It's not terrible or ridiculous for me

I accept it.

But still, I want to see this world as my imaginary realm and live my motto with these colors.

The bench I imagine, the table:

Pens, papers, needles, hooks, fabrics, stickers, boxes, hourglass, my pink teddy bear - saying bear is embarrassing - SBVP, white and pink creams, cherries, wooden carvings, and toys...

It feels very nice.

I may seem strange to most people, but that's okay, I think, isn't it?

I may have a colorless world, but I always imagined or searched for my colors in that colorless abyss, even if not in reality.

I never complained about my black-and-white and genderless body.

A skin that looks like metal, an odorless skin, a sweatless mold, and pink eyes...

I love it

This time I'm really happy and I smile as I imagine these

Full of love and colorlessness

I am screaming for the whole victims!

We never shouted enough

It is my turn to cry louder this time

Let me vomit everything I have inside

I want you to see that disgusting mixture of tomatoes, cheese, rice and the gastric acid!

See the whole disgust, new brave world!

This is all yours that I just kept inside me just like anyone in this world.

You were so shameful that you couldn't even look at the mirrors,

You feared a lot to reveal your own garbages hiding behind your garages

But I will just scatter them on the walls and these stone ways shining by the gray asphalt and glory.

I will break the shelter of yours that you always used against the truths.

I am sick of anything you show me except the life!

I felt enough after drinking your white liquids and getting them inside me,

I am bored of your mistakes and foolish wills you wrote for us!

You are just watching us and satisfying yourself such we are anime guys and gurls with light pantyhoses and pants without underwearings.

I will spit it whatever you try to block with,

Whenever you try,

Wherever you do try to do blocking me.

Let me spit it out!

:

For all the grims that torment the others and use them as their puppet like puppeteers,

For all those humans who shitly treat the weaklings like us as bullies,

For the whole ways of manipulation to use the easy-trickables or the guiltless lookings,

For all those silly trends such as the fashion of agitation and acting a drama for a little sorriness or unfortunateness;

For all those people who are shut because of the oppressionprints and can do nothing,

For all the suffocating despered chewed humans,

For all the ones who are suffering from anxiety and always feeling a disturbance for nothing and always being triggered and cautious towards the world;

For all those religion stuff that has turned to a controlling plane upon the sheep people,

For all those human pieces who refuses religion as the rightest option but also hides behind their shelter knowledge and logics which they only experience with their "precious" minds and sensory organs,

For all those researchers for the meanings and silly reasons,

For all those scientists who try to cut the mystery curtains of the universe for nothing but just to be stronger,

For all those who believe the world with only predictables and seenables and researchables,

For all those materialists who believe that the emotions are only chemical and that humans are just sexual-emotional machines,

For all those humans who always try to find reason behind the results or results after the incidents;

For all those arrogants and selfish bastards,

For all those humans who want to be as existance and being seen by the others always,

For all those who think of themselves as somethings for this world even if it is not necessary or even if they do nothing for it,

For all those human pieces who cannot develop themselves and still prefers to stay with their own old rusty minds and are always lying that they are going to change or they want to end these complainments;

For all those crying human pieces being pathetic in front of the eyes of the silly cruel god,

For all those humans who want to be saved by heavens and punish the real innocents with fiery hells;

For all those who cry phony at anything when someone hits their disgusting make-up faces that they wish to try to seduce the minds,

For all those who hate admitting their features and just showing a different in front of the poeple and themselves,

For all the ones who act greedy still even though the amazing served dish by the seraph and never knowing the value of what do they hand in their hands and wishing for the more instead of getting rid of the monotonity,

For all those goodies who are always playing the ideal to be appreciated by the others always,

For all those who think they can mask their identities always and can trick the naives;

For all those who name modesty as showing values and own-successes lower,

For all those who want to die or pass away from this life by using the excuse of being hated by the life or having tough times instead of trying more and hoping more to be fulfilled with the urge of living and seeing the real merriness that you can have with the help of this horrible looking lovely hatery-filled life,

For all those who overthink anything and try to cut the flow-way of the life;

For all those who fear having the name of "life" on their mouths because of believing it such it is a dramaturgy stuff,

For all those who are afraid of telling their selves to the people by the fear of being critisised and judged always,

For all those who are scared of expressing their sexual orientation especially when they are homos and against the homophobic bigot heteros,

For all those who fear asking someone's favour or refusing the helping hand that carries no other urges or compensation as debt and seeing it like avoiding selfishness or a way of kindness,

For all those who are afraid of talking or interacting with the other humans and only hide in their own black-white covered realms instead of seeing the whole beaties of the humanity;

For all those who created this stupid time function,

For all those who wants to close their eyes when the ultramarine covers the sky,

For all those dusks and dawns that prefer to be hidden and leave the stages to the day only,

For all those lavas on nimbus that disappear without a farewell and let the blue talk always;

For all those guys who gets the benefit of abusing children or the "weaks" they mark as,

For all the heresser men with sagged salivas rushing from their mouth to chins,

For all those girls who look at their big bakeries with fascination on their eyes and feeling to be done by men,

For all those lustful humans gathering in the orgies for the cum and feeling of being filled instead of living the love life and creating a perfection and name it as family;

For all those money waiting victims from their cruel partners,

For all those who sell themselves to people in claws of greed for the money,

For all those men who own women like their items and belongings,

For all those women that are being oppressed by the social life and always being forced to play their roles on the background,

For all those women who wait to be protected always instead of trying to defend their own dues;

For all those drunkards that pay their only money to these silly things and never care about their kids and partners,

For all those who play the lottery and leave money with their futures in the hand of "luck" or "god";

For all those criminals who never think about those innocent loveful hopeful lives and just excusing their critical reasons,

For all those thieves of money but also the ones who leave their most valuable personalities and independance behind them;

For all those who ever think this world is going to be disgusting more and there is no hope for the upcoming times ahead instead of knowing the fact that there is still luck or ratio for the good stuff;

For all those silly classifyings such as goods and bads,

For all those rules and basics for anything,

For all those who think of living as being in a race of killing and beating only instead of loving and having fun and seeing the cheer expression on faces but with the decoration of misery and desperation sometimes,

I want to spit!

I just want to spit it out..

Now do you feel you have to wash your faces?

Go and wash!

Then I will splash my disgust and release it on you again and again

I'll just spit!

Because this is the only I can do...

My only power...

The whole I have...

Just spit it,

Do not be a coward like an elephant running away from those mice!

Just spit for the justice,

For the whole "bad" or "good" stuff,

For the whole victims or the sources of glitch,

For yourselves..

Please..never be afraid of defending and holding on still,

Life never stabs back but always acts the truests even if they are harsh or sweet sometimes,

Hold on..

Hold on just one minute more!

Even if you can do nothing,

Just spit those fucking things that are disturbing your head!

I am waking myself up from a dream,

Calling mares to pay my debt.

I just want the easy way to breath

But it ends with mentally death.

I want to find it out of here:

The love, the passion that gained by heart.

Beating heart and beeping veins as spears..

Still I want to feel it.

Love me!

Look how perfect I am

With my shining pink eyes.

You have the best seats in my sweetie sticker book's pages.

Look how my heart beats for you,

For the world of perfection and the whole criminal lovely human pieces.

Look how fascinating we are as humans:

We love to torment the other species we discover by chance.

Love me!

I love to be selfish and care no other but just me and me always in the all ways

Look how amazing the incidents are,

They are all reasonable and "resultful"

Just like a love confession and the connection of passions we feel.

Just love me!

Look how gorgeous we are with our hairs swinging because of the wind

(They turn to vortexes and storm terrors after that, how horrible.. frightening).

Just look at us,

Look up our minds,

Dig us into the deepest spots to reveal the ores and the jades shining for the nature's green;

Bury us to the sweet, wet soil with a tombstone,

Just put a bunch of roses on top of us,

Never forget us!

Let us being counted as undying dews remained in the past but hope pieces for the futures and the furthers.

Just love us!

I woke up from this dream already,

Waiting to be in the underground;

Cover me with the cruel, lovely earth piece;

Fill me with cotton and then turn me into a fossil fuel for this new brave world.

Love me!

I deserve this,

We deserve a passion as a debt for our attitudes.

God does not accept us even if we try our bests,

I started to think he/she is not existing though..

But anyways!

Just accept us and forget him in his thorny throne!

Love us!

Look how perfect we are

With our sharp nails that drills the dirt second by seconds,

Waiting to be buried forever until we are gathered in isthmus to be punished in the inferno for the eternity.

Love me!

I want to be complimented and seem like I achieved something,

My kinds all deserve this passion and appreciation..

Love me!

We are all perfect,

We are all problematic problems,

We are not normal abnormals;

We are all fascinating that we color your eyes with our imaginary dyes and magical staff.

Love us then throw us away!

Let us just be as an existance in your memory.

Love me!

Be full of passion towards me.

No need to be so perfect in public status

Cause we already are amazing.

Love me!

Love this disgusting human piece between the whole 8.5 billion ones.

Love me!

Cause-...

Because there is no one else except each other..

I just do not want our follower and lover to be just the "being hated by the life"

I already hated myself a lot..

But what if someone accepted me,

Appreciated the Pomy;

With my disgusting being,

With my casual.

There is no other realm for us to be as essence that feeds our existences.

This is why...I am pleaing.

But..

I do not want to order it such as an arrogant and a selfish piece of shit.

Let me say it in this way:

If you want to, you can always love Pomy and cherish her,

You can always want her happiness and cheerful days,

I let you wish the whole good wishes you are gonna wish for her..

For me..

Starts with morning,

Goes on with sun rise.

Say "Hi!" to the flame ball

That creates heat that melts our hearts,

But my curtains are closed.

The routine goes on,

But my bearing level will have overflown soon.

The same flame,

The same clock ı see when ı wake up,

The same people walking in the park,

The same world around me...

Our acts are transfixated by the fake light.

We lost our willed humanity being,

Such we returned to monkeys.

We always go on without thinking

Just for the meaningless future that even if we try to find the meaning which is not existing.

The same creations,

The same incidents we see on the channels,

The same sweet ı eat,

The same earrings ı wear,

The same sames...

Day to day

Night to night

I want to feel tired,

I want to feel bored;

Because there is no time for these.

I want to want the day break.

Rest of the 24 houred thing we named...

Sun is looking straight at us with 90 degree.

Let's say "Good afternoons!" for fun.

My inside is burning because of the fire,

I feel like the sun entered in me.

The routine goes on

But there is something on my legs that ı feel ı started to cannot stand this.

The same horror,

The same grave that ı lay in,

The same feelings that ı regret having for stupid dollies,

The same teal colored sky...

We want more as result of prurience

But this is even an unchanging true.

The different desires,

The same wanting,

The same waiting for the foretold one,

The same claiming a rejime changer,

The same changings,

The same sames...

Dawn to dusk,

Dusk till dawn...

I want to feel regret of choosing this life,

I want to feel ı chose this life,

I want to get bored a li'l,

At least ı deserve a god for this bitter dinner.

No is what matters.

I am just a godless bride.

Waiting for my groom for him to put me on his white horse's saddle.

Living a fairytale in my dreams.

I am standing on my broken spine.

Hitting people with my horn that takes place on my head.

Dreams are the only one accepts anything.

Please do not change this feature of humans.

I want to go on dreaming;

Whatever you do,

Whatever you say,

Whatever you want,

I will live what ı know.

I do not care nor changes neither sames,

They can go on being existing themselves.

I will not work for the real world today,

Maybe for tomorrow I do..

But today

This is my day break.

Tomorrow is coming,

I am scared.

All the stars that guide us in this abyss will soon disappear into the pitch,

Our hopes that will make us believe in eternity in this mortal universe will be buried under the asphalt.

I miss Sansara.

Deliver us from the hand of the Seraph, almighty God.

The cruel scythe will end this night.

When tomorrow comes, the yellowish whites of the Sun will make us forget the dead.

Crystal butterflies are shaken away by the giant tornado.

Even if it's just for one day, they fill that short life with their dreams;

They follow the light,

They watch the stars when the night falls,

They don't let them disappear.

I am scared,

They will go and disappear when it's 00:00.

Even though the bloody claws of oppression,

The time flow in this star syrup

And he brought them with him, I still want to believe that those crystal butterflies are alive.

Tomorrow is coming,

I am scared.

The stars tremble with the fear of God.

The light gave goosebumps,

They cover the night as lichens

But in vain.

Their lights are not enough to illuminate this pitch black.

I miss Sansara.

If necessary, let my freedom be in the hands of an authority

Cause I want them to live no matter what.

I don't want to hold Seraph's hand,

We don't need the help of an angel;

I don't even care if I get burned,

We do not accept this temporality.

We will always shine

On people!

We will always guide their crystal butterflies.

Eternal bliss to mortals,

Unchanging forever..

We will lead you to eternal happiness without will or freedom.

This night won't end,

Tomorrow won't come,

I'm hopeful.

On this night that God wants it to be short,

We won't be stars dying in the petroleum that adorns it.