The night you lost me in the buzz
of one hazy crowd,
you reduced me to rose petals
blanketed between aching free verse.
You sunk my shattered teeth
in more heartbreak
than I could ever swallow.
My windpipe chimed a new
song every time you touched my skin.
Akin to that of claustrophobia…
Is this suffocation or love?
See when I fell for you,
I gave you everything.
I watched from beneath
harvest moons, half-witchy
with a heavy intuition of our story.
I felt you before your flesh found me.
I loved you before I could justify it
and I cried the night before you
even thought about cheating on me.
And yet, my heartstrings, harp
Haphazardly lay their weapons
every time you say Hediye.
Three syllables of familiarity with
the echo of a voice in the bottom of a well.
No dime or wish could ever release you.
A ghost, my demon, my madness,
its nothing short of masochism,
how much I loved you.
Is this love or suffocation?
Self-inflicted asphyxiation.
God heard my untimely predictions
and watched from her crown,
heaving.
She knew how much I needed this.
So when I forgave you for my selfish reasons,
She condemned me to an apology.
Nothing more.
Do you know what it’s like to choose
a mortal over eternity?
I chose your life over my salvation,
with no questions.
And so falling in love with you killed me.
I learned lessons in blood.
And no.
Not grazed knees,
I am leaving kidney-deep
because I ignored my intuition.
You will never know what it’s like
to break so beautifully.
I didn’t cry until I got on the Central line.
I travelled half-way across
London to get to where I was,
and I watched in silence, a route
I will never cross again.
I wish I had released my own soul
through the window
that whispered our secrets into
the summer air.
I wish I had
never watched you turn that corner
into my existence
for now, I have to repaint these walls
so deeply embellished with your face.
I likened you to alcohol,
and only just realised why.
You were the most beautiful intoxication,
I could ever swish between gritted teeth.
A dream-like substance
I gulped greedily to a four-month old grave,
large enough to swallow me whole.
Your name,
sharp whisky turned shard,
sliced my tongue, clean.
I hope you never discover
the suffocation of this inward bleeding.
I hope you never question why,
it took a week to unwrite
one tireless legacy.
viewsfromgehenna 