Dear Lover,
I want to be unapologetically me. And that is me being a work-in-progress.
I'm in the process of dissecting my traits, the things that made me me.
Spreading out pieces on the table, looking at them with the eyes of a scientist that I once dreamt to be.
I would ponder and sort.
I would put some traits in a box for further inspection
and lay the rest, the ones that brought pain, in a coffin to bury before the daw breaks.
But, dear lover, I am far from perfect. Amicable, yes.
There are still times I can still be unbearable.
I'd give you a list of why I love and hate myself
why sometimes I wish I am anyone but me.
However, I will save it for later.
I'll tell you when I'm certain you're way into delep in love with me
you will only wholeheartedly say, "It's worth it."
I hope though that after the haze of honeymoon phase fades,
you will still stay.
Accept the good and bad, yours and mine, morning breaths and stinky farts.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
Quarter Life Intrusive Thoughts
ŞiirI wanted to scream but I couldn't. I wanted to hit something but I couldn't. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. So here I am. Writing. Hiding behind euphemisms. Because I wanted to say I'm tired, but I know that your reply will be "Why? You have everyt...
