jet lagged love.

i’m watching your sunrise
and you’re collecting dust from
the stars in my night sky
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i sing good morning
but you’re listening to midnight
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i count the steps when you walk away
and you calculate the geography for us
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i’m building our home on the seventh cloud
and you’re choosing bricks from the second
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i pick up the call on the third ring
so you check your connection on the second
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i’m waking up to a nightmare
but you’re waiting for me to tell you my eyes are not red
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

without flowers, i sit alone
but you pick up all the ones you could find for me
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d to have you here.

it’s three thousand miles away from you in the car
but you’re walking home the other way
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

i’m in love with a foreign land where you exist
but you’re home far away from home
and we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

the moon was never meant to be gone so long
but we use flashlights to find each other
we’re in a jet lagged love
but what i’d do to have you here.

we’re in a jet lagged love
and we’re making paper planes out of it
but what i’d do to have you here

what we’d do to always have this here
because we’re in a jet lagged love
even after all the paper planes crashed.

 

 

 

 

 

louder than

i will love you louder than love
louder than fear in blank blinking cursors
louder than happiness in lemon yellow
louder than noise at places you can’t go.

i will love you louder than love
louder than your fear of my absence
louder than the people
who locked you in metaphors of death
louder than everything you have always lost.

i will love you louder than love
louder than the entirety of the sky
louder than all the stars you’ve stopped watching
louder than all the space between cosmos.

i will love you louder than love
louder than times you’re changing for the worse
louder than the days where the only company is your favorite song
louder than all the nights where you planned your own death.

i will love you louder than the moments we lost
louder than years made of geography
louder than everything in between you and the world.

i will love you louder than love,
louder than the world and
louder than me.

hozier+making love+fear of the flies

today, hozier
on the road
after 7 pm.

hozier’s music
makes me want to
hug the flies
basking under no sun
and i’m connecting
everything around me
moving so fast like
lightning around a planet
to every word of him
like poetry
like listening to poetry
for the first time
after saying a proper
goodbye
to the sun
after a mild afternoon
and you’re content
with what’s left of the light
and you’re sitting on
rough beds
scraping the paint
off of your old shoes
which you wore to work today
and you’re thinking of all colors
red
and cherry wine
makes you pull over
pull your hair softly
over your face
to cover the tears
flowing in the middle
of the traffic signal
and hozier is sighing
at the back of your head
scraping prose under your dirty
feet
which you keep stepping on
to hide it from eyes
made of gold and silver,
you want hozier to yourself
this evening.

i watched naked bodies
through the glass of a car
today
from behind
with two women
closing in on each other,
two naked bodies
looked so much like the continents
which never part
on dusty world maps
and i sighed that
intimacy
transformed to smut
on traffic signals
with words made of
hurt
with the brightness of phones
increased to the maximum
to watch them make love
but nothing
makes more sense than
the poetry
i listened to
about cherry wine
love
and two people in love singing
icy rum
fast and angry
to each other.

i have fear of the flies
at this house
hozier
and love
and no art and history
is helping me with my fear
i don’t know what to do
with the buzzing sounds
of flies inside this house
i have tried fishing nets
to capture anything
that’s making this awful
awful sound
but the people
the people have turned into
these flies
i don’t recognize anymore
i don’t want to live around
constant hammer and nail
inside my head
to drive away the flies
but i’m trapped under the net now

so making love with words that
do not hurt
under cherry wine stars
sounds like home
than
driving yourself away
from the flies.

9:53 pm

every time, i hate the moon.

right now,
this city suffocating me
stands under a flashlight
of pastel white
of the moon
and i’ve never made it my
protagonist in poetry.

this city, my only friend
will be a dusty blanket,
i’ll leave everything behind
and i’ll play headlights
towards the road that doesn’t kill me

but it comforts me endlessly tonight
that this city i’ll leave behind
will look at a moon i’ll love
in a city
that i’ll love.

growing into the moon myself.

i wrote this letter from across the street.

i saw you on the other end of the street today walking with steps made of exactly seven seconds love for something across town and i wanted to tell you that the red on your dress is slightly different than the one which is your favorite i wanted to tell you that you left your jacket in my car yesterday but i didn’t even say hi because i didn’t want to see your eyes change from electric brown in the time i try to look at the dusk in my pocket and then you, so i didn’t even say hi because i wanted to tell you that the film you hated yesterday made someone’s life better today, that caramel on my pie makes me shift my chair a little bit towards you for giving the half of it, that the songs i listen to sleeping on the coldest part of the floor are skipped on your phone and we’re nowhere similar to the beads on your bracelet, i wanted to tell you that you were so beautiful today, i saw black wings made of courage, but i couldn’t even say hi because i keep thinking that, what if you thought the plants on my third floor apartment turned grey in the electricity blackout and you’d tell me sternly to carefully water my plants, I was scared that you would look at me from across on the street and not recognize my one sock mismatched so i couldn’t even say hi today but violet, violet i’ll see you around, right?

10:11 pm

a strand of my hair is out of place, i’m playing with circles inside my palms, i count two plus two on my fingers, i learnt about accommodation today. 

today I learnt accommodating my lungs,

i copied how you do it, 

breathing in and out so slowly, 

but so steady and tensed,

it brought a calmness to me

accommodating myself to you.