in her secret life


October 2016


We were determined-

trying to destroy each and every piece of our memories,

setting aside our hearts to live in a mere rationality,

being responsible with reality.

But hearts…screamed and yearned and craved

Yours for me and mine for you-

from deep down within their graves.

A gun was loaded with its barrel touching your temple.

“What do you want?”, asked a distant voice as cold as metal.

“Another night-with her, by my side.

Touch her, kiss her, look into her eyes

Make love and wake up with her, still – by my side.”

The death nodded his head, and triggered the gun.

You lied down on a wrinkle pearl white linen

My naked body pressed against yours

My  eyebrows frowned and my lips mumbled: “I want more”

Your kisses slowly reached my forehead

“I know our love is hanging on a thread

but sleep tight, the poison for my heart

as no matter far it drags me into Hell

Also the more of you I want to drink in my secret cell.”


I am a full-time dreamer and a part-time loner.

Life couldn’t get any better.

The world spins in reverse.

Days are darker and nights are brighter.

Sky is closer and ground grows deeper.

Mind gets faster and life goes slower.

Eyes shimmer in the brightest cinder.


Can you hear the bell is ringing?

You’ve been preparing and waiting for this day too long,

haven’t you, sailor?

It’s time to test your limits and sail on.

Defeat the monster and claim the glorious crown.

I’ll sing a joyful hymn in my distant land, praying for your throne.

May all the courage, wisdom and lucks be your wings,

taking you higher and farther than you can imagine.

-From The Woman with all my loving-


They say:

“Time heals”,


For me-

“Time kills.”


You used to embarrass me a lot with your memory.

You said it was easy to remember everything when you were deep in love with me.

But since when beautiful things got faded so unintentionally?

I was wholeheartedly happy seeing you again at my place.

There was a tiny trail of tiredness hiding carelessly on your face,

but my heart crumbled just the same as if nothing had changed.

We talked cheerfully in an awkward way;

and in an ephemeral moment, I realized you had forgotten.

Things you said to me-words I treasured were all laden

in such a clever way under a delusion that you loved me still

while your head and heart were being filled with new sweet memories of her.

That realization of being forgotten blurred my eyes deep inside.

Our stories are getting rusted, have you ever noticed?


You’d been stuck too long in your tiny world

surrounded by familiar faces and voices.

“I’m not an adventurer”, once you said.

“Never did I dare to take chances,

to break the line and move ahead.”

Then came I like a train crossing your life

My wilderness lifted you up high to another world

of everything you had been so unsure.

Joyfully you and I marched to the line.

Carelessly, a coming storm didn’t cross our minds,

not until it destroyed our lives.

A familiar hand from the deadly storm pulled you back down

to the entirety of the same old town.

I stood there outside the line helplessly seeing you getting drown.

Again, you became the same little boy sitting on a straw rooftop

hiding a secret promise with the train he once missed.

“One day, I will build my own station and have my own train

to break the line and to find you in another July rain”.


THE WOMAN is definitely a woman- ordinary just she is.

What makes her so special is the man that saw her beauty,

showed her how phenomenal to him she was,

made her happy and set her free.

Then…he left, leaving her grieve.

Buy may she know?

Albeit time and distance,

to the man’s heart and mind-

everlastingly phenomenal she will always be.


I don’t know what I’m more afraid of-

Seeing you again or never seeing you again.

My eyes kept looking for a silhouette of you

among 9 million silhouettes of others.

My heart wished for one day crossing yours;

but my mind prevented me from wanting more.


It hurts to see my brightest color vanished into the thin air.

I don’t remember how many times I suffocated in restless nightmares-

with images of you haunting, squeezing, and killing.

Still, I’m struggling.


“What are we now?”, you asked

and exhaled a fatal sigh

in the silence of the night.

Obviously, we are not lovers-

we’ve never used to be.

But it hurts when naming us “strangers”,

despite how distant we are from one another.

So, may I call us “loving strangers”?

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