I open up these deceiving memories

And cut my amnesia open

I lie I lie

Then I fall asleep and everything bends right.

I wear my coat and gloves

Hide under a hat

Still loving fall

Having it hard with snow.

I find your remains hidden from myself

I lie I lie

That they have never

Sung to me.

I desperately wait for your face in the crowd

Search for your shoes

You run away with no dust following you

You don’t want to be found

I find myself hiding from you

I run I run but bump against your shoes

And stumble on the ground

Stand up again

I have amnesia I claim

Then I slumber to forget.

This circle never ends.

I compare

The sadness of solitude

is worse than madness.

I am alone,

like a cloud on the broad sky

I am sad like a lost child.

The sea could never

wash away the sand

of my heart’s decay.

My love is intact,

but the distance I have run to

is rotting it,

I am alone.


Like a star without company,

like the Moon without the Sun.

I am not strong.

I am stone.

I am down.

At the bottom

Beneath the sea,

in a land with no you

with no me.


I bury my face in sand

for ignorance is not a bliss

I hide my head in mud

I pull back to feel your kiss.

I cover my ears and scream

I hope my deeds will be redeemed.

With every single person on Earth

I am condemned to be


I dare not

In a sky full of your eyes

There is flight with no demise

There is beauty beyond compare

And a clock ticking

To ignore it, I dare


The vastness of the world is nothing

Your arms could not embrace

Yet you hold on to something

I dare not to say


Your head under my chin

Near the heart that loses its beat

And adjusts its movement

Imitating the way you breathe


I am not saying love, I do not dare

My hands seek your face, neck and stare

My everything, my something, the sweetest of all

I don’t dare to think that to this summer

There is fall.


My blush, red in rush, the snow of my face

Love, serenity, lovely kiss and taste

Don’t hold me still, don’t let me go, don’t go away


While I figure out how happiness is to be contained



The icing on top of us is snow

it coats our shoulders, hat and nose.

We are not alone, foreign to aliens

common to few.

We are not rain, nor a cloud full of scorn

we are dew.

Morning’s innocence we are holding dear the glimmer within.

White flags wave above us

I chose you, to carry my love around

Well, I must be vain and stubborn still

to believe I contributed to our fate

I still claim I called you mine and

mine you’ve become.

But no

neither does the moon choose to be a mirror

the sun never complied to be the fire

we all just are.

therefore you are

therefore I am

a single, simple melody

a besung script

but I shall not skip the ornament of chance

I will not spoil our tale with stories of greater things

because we are what this is

we should love things

by which we are not missed.

I Like My People as I Like My Weather

There is nothing magnificent about spring in February. It is supposed to be white wherever the eye can reach, but instead I hear birds chirping and singing as if winter left for good.

It did not and I fear its recurrence. I fear that the assurance of something is about to be wiped away by sudden and subtle routines. As if the world is reminding me that nothing is certain and that weather is nothing.

It is not just this fake spring. I resent winter that is not cold. I resent to be thought about things in life and than be faced with completely different reality. I hate wet summers. I hate fall that is hotter and more sultry than any desert’s climate.

I don’t want to look out my window and see butterflies and bees and birds and lizards and cats and dogs and a baby-blue sky and then go out just to be chilled and caressed with an icy breath of wind.

I want the warmth that is invoked in me to be reality. I want to see and feel summer when I leave the walls of artificial certainty. I want the cold to be real when I go out to play with snow. I want the feeling of being alive to flow trough every vessel of mine as the only fuel. When I lift my head and shake off my day dreams, I want to know that something was as right and truthful as death is.

I want to know that I did something, built something, felt something undisputed, genuine and graspable.

So please, stop giving names to the vague weather outside. Stop making me pretend that spring arrived while I still have my winter coat on.






Leave for good for better

Run and smile for latter

My soul is yours I ponder

The bad thoughts will be smothered.

Run and gain things for us,

Waiting is not a breaking

I will hide myself of gaze

And my eyes will shun from gazing.

Go if leaving is what it takes

I will be alone again

But at least I will have some light

To reach out for in this den.

Life brings things you can’t imagine

and strikes aren’t always soft

But when my heart sinks

It reminds me that I shouldn’t be loft.

My love, you go

But I will wait for good

And if my heart be coated with snow

My mind will draw you over again,

where you once stood.


I sat close to him because I saw nothing wrong with sitting next to him. Still it seemed like I’ve been justifying him in front of myself although the man did nothing wrong.

But my own day started wrong, I was late for every appointment that morning and I felt guilty to the bone. It was an unusually warm weather for a January day.

I had to wait for my friends for an hour because they were late as well. It happened to be next this old weary man. His clothes were old and dirty. He wore layers to keep himself warm I suppose. Next to his feet rested a large bag filled with trifles I assumed. A bottle of water filled with a yellowish liquid was near him. Looking like a warrior and guardian of a kind heart a German Shepard lied in front of this man’s being.

A waiter went out from a cafe to light a cigarette. He looked at this man whose radio buffered horrible turbo folk music. The waiter would smile satisfied and proud. The poor man did not lift his head since I sat on the bench next to his. The waiter took a deep breath after he squashed the cigarette on the floor and called out to him:

“You are a king I swear!”-shouted the waiter in front of his workplace.

“I asked for water half an hour ago.”- the man replied with an angry tone.

“I will see about that.”

The waiter went back in. There is no snow in this winter either. The previous one was as naked as this one. I miss flakes and coldness very much.

I hate being late though. I cannot blame the idle bus driver who seemed too careful on the road. The alarm clock was in my hands when I woke up half an hour after I was supposed to stand up.

It is not this man’s fault either. It is all me. The dog gave me a friendly look. A beautiful dog indeed.

The seemingly homeless man stood up. The dog was startled but ready as an arrow to accompany him to paths unknown.

I never felt poorer than in the moment I realized that I sat next to him to punish myself for being late. I am poor.




I cheated on my diet today without hesitation. I’ve been clean for a month but then I smelled pizza at lunch break.

-“Well, Zehra, you are eating pizza. Isn’t it time to change some things in your life? Look at all the girls around you that are fit and healthy. Your chin has a chin..”

Our school counselor was never the best with indirect instructions that would advise me and spare me at the same time. Once she told me that skinny yoga-pants are not meant for plus-plus-size models. She wanted to ease her remark by calling me a model but she certainly doesn’t know how to be kind and honest.

-“It is ok Ms. Popovich, it is the first in months”

She shacked her head in disbelief. I saw her off with a sharp look and continued my treat.

“May I sit with you?”


A very skinny girl sat next to me. I see almost nothing on her plate. Some beans, mashed potatoes and a tiny portion of chicken.

“Are you on a diet?

She smiled faintly. Her eyes were sad and swollen. I could see small spider-webs of capillaries under her eyes and about her scleroses. I bite my tongue and try to change the topic.

“Would you like pizza?”- I usually never share food but I felt that I wronged her. She looked at me then at the slice and with a bright smile she accepted.

“I am not anorexic but I am under lot of pressure almost all the time and it affects my appetite.” – she told me while she chewed huge bites of her slice.

“I am fat because I love to eat and I don’t give a fuck.”

She stopped her cheerful chewing and looked at me with eyes widened in shock. I couldn’t quite understand her reaction so I tried to shake it off with a silly smile followed by a shrug.

She almost choked laughing. She had gigantic tears rolling down her bony cheeks but it left an impression of sadness rather than joy. She held her belly and barely stopped herself of spiting out bites in her mouth. I laughed with her because it was a really contagious laughter.

She puked all she ate with me at the table. I held her fore-head while her vomit mixed with mucus from her nose landed on the grass.

Trough short episodes of inhaling air she managed to tell me that she has a presentation after the break and that she is nervous. She thanked me for some reason. However, I never ate pizza again.