Skip to main content

Little Answers

How do you want to be captured?" you ask. 

Don't you know how to capture me? Don't you know the art of being immortalized in words? Haven't you made me a prisoner of your love? 

I want to lay on the pages of your diary where you'd put dry flowers. I want to bleed into your ink. I want to be a permanent part of your daily blogs. I want to smell like your hands that leave their scent when you touch my soul. 

Baby, imprison me in your thoughts. Cage my whole life in your eyes. Bury me in your heart. Wear me in your skin. 

Don't you know I want to be captured by you? And only you.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In the Abyss of Despair

I lost, when, where and how. I don't know. What did I lose? I don't know. Was I really in the abyss of despair? I had no idea. Maybe a part of myself, a piece of my heart, my soul? I couldn't figure it out. I never would. It was so sudden that I couldn't gather the courage to find it again. Why it was like that? Was I miserable? Or I was just overthinking? Was there any hope for me? Or I was just being overdramatic?  I wanted to scream, I wanted to share, I wanted to yell the hell out of me but I couldn't. How could I? The only thing that kept me alive, was no more with me. Without a soul, the words did not weigh much. I had only words. The words that had kept me alive. Without them, I was nothing, they had lost their impact. I was wondering in the sea of nothingness. My surroundings were nothing but the abyss of pessimism. I could have escaped but there was no need to escape. How could we escape ourselves? In the process of escapism, we lose the essence of the self...
31 comments
Read more

Death Stares at Us

Not a single person on this earth can deny death. Even those who do not believe anything. Because death is an inevitable reality. In " The Book Thief" Markus Zusak says, "It kills me how some people die." Yes, it kills us completely.  In my life, too, death has always danced. The people I loved, I cared about, everyone just succumbed to death. So I got used to it. With each death, I become more and more puzzled. But does it stop life? What happens when one dies?  Nothing happens. Life goes on. The people who lose to death, we cannot find them in someone else. Once lost, they cannot be found again. Yet, life goes on. It stops for no one and it never should. If it stopped, all the principles of the universe would come to an end.  But, it does not mean, we shouldn't mourn. We should and we do. There are shock waves. The stages of pain, the recollection of moments, we recall them in happy moments and sad events. We meet them in dreams. But we can never touch them, s...
12 comments
Read more

A Poem Rumi Forgot To Complete

They ask me who am I. Should this question be asked? Of course not. Sadly, I have no name, it ruins the beauty of mystery. The name does not matter, does it? Many people died without anyone remembering their names. They were incomplete stories, unwritten words, and undiscovered thoughts. I want to remain like that too  because I am a poem Rumi forgot to complete. Today, I choose to write about that incomplete poem. But why I am the poem of Rumi? And not of Shakespeare,  Shah Latif, or Bullhe Shah?  Because Rumi had Shams.  Shams acted as a muse for Rumi. When he started that poem, he lost his muse; thus an incomplete poem was born. An incomplete chaos, an unsolved puzzle, and everything that is lost on the way. We all are someone's Rumi and someone's Shams - doesn't it sound amazing? But in reality, neither you are a Shams nor I am a Rumi. We are those words that were never said loudly. Words that were only thought.  So, starting from this, I finally tried to wr...
12 comments
Read more