naked thoughts

touch my pain, feel my mind

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

let us love

“let us love.”

i try to scream into nothingness

but all i hear is a suffocated sob.

let us love.

i deserve her heart.

i make her happy,

she hadn’t felt her heart ache in a long time.

(i feel mine)

let us love.

she hasn’t shed a single tear

since she met me

since she let me hold her hand, pull her by the waist.

let us love.

she feels so empty, her bed feels so cold without me there.

(mine too)

let us love.

we are both girls and it’s not wrong.

love can’t be bad.

oh, my love,

can you see the dark skies

and feel the wind blowing?

the sky is mourning

our love too.

oh, please,

let us love each other.

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

she has somebody to hold her at night, yet i am still in love with her

i haven’t seen her in eight days. we haven’t spoken in four days, yet i hear your laughter ringing in my ears. (sweet pain)

 the laughter suddenly turns into his yelling, accusing me of cheating on him. he grabbed my face and pressed roughly his lips against mine. (i still feel his salty tears on my lips) “she doesn’t love you!” he yelled, but the sound of my heart breaking was louder than his voice.

i closed the door but he kept banging his fists on the door. i put my hands over my ears, trying to block the sounds around me, but the high pitched scream i let out echoed in the empty apartment.

 your laugh still rings in my ears; “how could i love someone like you?” you asked me, your eyebrow raised.

how foolish of me to believe that you could fall in love with anything but a body.

(i am always falling for the wrong ones)

*

the red wine stain is still on the wall, the broken glass still lays on the floor. my nightgown still has blood on it.

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

i was chasing you

along the beach.

suddenly you stopped and

you never looked more beautiful.

the wind was blowing through

your black curls

and you were laughing so hard

that your body started to shake.

i have never felt more alive

or in love with you.

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

not enough

believe me,  i know i am not enough  for you, for mom, for him  (god bless his soul). i am too broken, picking up myself from the bathroom floor every wednesday night  when i can’t breathe anymore and my hands are shaking.  i let people in my bed, believing that they worshipping my body  (using it fits better)  would fix the emptiness in my chest,  but in the end, i feel emptier than the bottle that sits on the floor, next to one of  jude deveraux’s novels.  i dress up the truth and myself “are you okay?” they ask. “i am just grateful for being alive,” i say. they believe me.   i know that both of them are looking down upon me  and no matter how hard  i try to fool myself, hiding behind cold leather jackets and ironed shirts, polished boots, i know  they are not proud of me. there are times when i am not as well,  but i least i am here after all the hell  i have been through   and sometimes it is enough.  too bad i will never be it for you,  even if i am for myself. 

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

to indeed be a god

to indeed be a god,  i am going to rise above. rise above the misery, the pain you left me in.

to indeed be a god, i am going to thrive, to rise above. to rise above the blood in my tub, the loneliness that makes my back arch.  

to indeed be a god, i am going to be the best of them all. 

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

sometimes

and i believe that this is what is going to end me:  the aching heart, the pain  i cannot stop or prevent every time i see you laughing wholeheartedly, your face glowing.

it hurts, oh, how it hurts,  but sometimes i close my eyes and it feels like nothing has changed: you are still mine, your hand still holds mine  and you whisper softly  “i wouldn’t have it any other way.  i love you, baby.” sometimes i close my eyes and  everything is fine.  sometimes. 

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

release

when i saw you at my front door, it struck me how normal you looked. you were wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. your red high heels i got used to were replaced by a pair of worn out sneakers. if i were to look more carefully at the bottom of my drawer, i’d find an identical pair.

your wet hair, a shade darker than usual, was put into a ponytail. it was the first time i hadn’t seen it falling down on your shoulders.

your face as also wet. was it because it was raining or because you were crying? till this day, i still don’t want to know the answer, even if deep down i’m aware of the tears staining your face. my heart still aches at the thought of you crying.

you tried once to look me in the eye, but you couldn’t. the silence was blood-thick, and i swear i can still hear your heart beating.

i could hear you watch ticking: tick-tock. tick-tock. tick-tock.

a few seconds later, you fell in my arms. you put your head on my shoulder and clung to my shirt. you tried to whisper my name; it still rings in my ears. 

“julie”

in that moment i realized: you have never been mine.

your body started shaking; you were crying harder. i couldn’t help but wondering if you cried in her arms too after the realization hit you.

behind my closed eyes played the first moment when i saw your gray eyes sad; i’d say empty if i knew you better.

you were sitting at the piano.

“sing me something,” i whispered.

your fingers barely touched the keys, and the music was already filling the room.

i was sitting across you, resting my elbows on the shiny surface.

“my father bought it for me as a graduation gift. it’s silly.” you shook your head, focusing on the keys. “he was the only one who supported me when i said i wanted to make music.”

the soft melody continued to fill the silence.

“old times,” you said just above a whisper. your lips were curled into a smile, but your eyes were so sad.

“i wasn’t even born yet.” i thought.

you started to sing. i don’t know what made the tears stream down my face: your broken voice or the song you choose to sing.

“and i’m sorry to my future love for the girl that left my bed, for making love the way i saved for you inside my head.”

since that moment, you knew that we weren’t meant to be no matter how much you loved me.

to us, my love, there’s no right time. maybe just another life. to you, my love, i give you forgiveness. to me, my love, i give myself freedom.

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

My 2018 Tumblr Top 10

1). 136 notes - 23 May 2018

about sinking

put your arms around me, and let me sink in, make me feel like home because there's where i belong.

2). 70 notes - 03 April 2018

about wanting

i want you to love me.  i want us talking about our day   as we eat ramen because   we’ll burn the kitchen down if...

3). 55 notes - 24 May 2018

about a chance

i can see myself coming back in this old town, holding my lover's hand. and by chance, if i heard your voice, ...

4). 47 notes - 04 August 2018

title: moving on about: is it really what i want?

i can feel you slipping off my mind, and slowly i forget the way your eyes...

5). 46 notes - 17 March 2018

about finding you

i look for you everywhere I go and i hope that if my eyes don't find you, at least my heart will.

6). 45 notes - 21 April 2018

about thoughtless decisions

a genuine laugh, a faint smell of cigarettes, the way your skin burnt under my lips and a strong...

7). 30 notes - 05 August 2018

title: truth about: a lie

i did get over you, (it took me eighteen months, i am not going to lie about it) but every time he...

8). 28 notes - 24 August 2018

title: run away about: just you and me

let’s run away, just you and me. bring along your favourite shirt and i’ll bring the...

9). 27 notes - 23 May 2018

about trying

and i'm wondering now, if you tried hard enough could you love me enough to make me the only one in your life?...

10). 25 notes - 02 June 2018

about your laugh

i saw you today across the street and you were laughing; god, you looked so beautiful.

Created by TumblrTop10

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

lies you’ve told for a home

you did, you met your prince charming. although he didn’t look like one, he had a kind smile.

he was your third boy crush and the first one to ever like you back. how could you say no to him?

he talked more than you did and, finally, you realized not everything was about yourself. he showed you that and you were grateful for it.

  after one month you brought him home to your parents.

“how old are you?” your mother asked.

 “he just turned twenty-two.” you jumped in. “right, love?” you asked him with a smile on your face but panic in your eyes.

it was the first time you called him other than his name.

 “he is twenty-two?” she screamed later at night; her face turned red from the anger bubbling inside her.

 “leave her alone, q.” your dad told her while he was watching TV. “he is a good guy,” he continued without moving his eyes an inch. “he doesn’t drink or smoke. and he goes to church on sundays. what could you want more for your daughter?”

“lies!” your mind screamed. “lies!” it screamed again. it didn’t seem to stop for a while.

you were barely eighteen when you met him at a local shop. he looked at you and his lips curled upwards. you couldn’t help but smile.

he was twenty-five at the time, and you didn’t mind, he liked you back.

“at least i didn’t bring home a girl.” you kept telling yourself as a mantra every time you worried about your mother disliking him.

he took you out on walks and held your hand.

 “she is mine,” he told the world every time he grabbed your hand.

  “you talk much, don’t you?” he asked you one morning while you rambled about the last book you have read.

he started to laugh, but his eyes told you “shut up.”

after that, he was the one to talk.

  he meets your girlfriends three months later.

they laughed together at the jokes he told them as he gripped your thigh with his slender fingers. and you laughed too when they turned to look at you.

“are you sure about him?” they asked after he had kissed you goodbye.

 “yes.” you said softly, nodding your head. “i might love him,” you added just above a whisper, shocking the girls and yourself for admitting it out loud.

 they shared a look you choose to ignore.

 “then, we like him too.” one of them said as the others backed her up with fake smiles and head nods.

  by the end of the fourth month, he took you out to dinner at the new italian place opened downtown.

 “did you enjoy the food?” he asked before he took a big gulp of his beer, leaning on the back of the chair as he eyed your face in a way you couldn’t describe.

“you eat too much.” his eyes read.

  it was the fifth month of your relationship when he started to touch you more than usual.

 “he loves me,” you told yourself as his fingers traced your skin.

  you met his parents after six months.

 “you look good in this dress,” he told you before a woman with a tired smile opened the door of his childhood home.

 “she is so tiny!” she said as she covered your back with her arms.

 he smiled at his mom and kissed her cheek before his eyes have found you again.  “you could drop a few.”  you could see the disapproval in his eyes every time you opened your mouth to take a bite.

  you decided to go all the way that evening eight months later.

he pumped into you with all his strength until he came. he got off you and dressed the clothes that were left as a pool at the end of the bed. 

“i got to go to work,” he said to you as he buttoned his jeans, his voice monotone.

“but it was your free day.” you wanted to say. the words got stuck in your throat.

you ended up nodding your head.

  nine months

 “you are cheating on me!” he screamed so loud you thought the entire neighborhood heard him.

“i am not,” you said, already feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

 “lies!” he yelled.

 “he’s gay.” you managed to say clearly enough for him to understand before your voice broke.

 “lies!” he yelled again.

 at first, you didn’t realize the warmth on your cheek or the high, piercing sound echoing in the room.

you fell down on the cold floor and cried.

“at least he is touching me again,” you say to yourself as he thrust into you with his eyes closed, letting out throaty moans. soon, you could feel his body weight shifting off you. you heard the front door closing behind him. he left without looking at you. (one year)  

after one year and a half, his abuse felt like home.

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

title: fierce

about: a girl turning into a woman

there are times when a girl wishes for a sign, a phone call to prove her she is worthy of his loving.  but then she remembers: she is not begging for the love of a sinner,  she is the sin, worshipped by the others. she is made of fire  (she has ashes and broken promises instead of a heart). she is made of steel, ready to conquer and crush everything that comes in her way.  she is not a pretty girl with pearls seen as a goddess wearing high heels  by men’s hungry eyes.  she has a gun instead of tongue, bullets instead of tender words. (she isn’t afraid of shooting you). her fingertips are poisoned and  her knuckles are printed with her ex-lover’s blood. darling, she is the darkness you’ve been afraid of, not the sun you’ve been waiting for. 

 song: kill of the night // gin wigmore

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

untitled

i want you

to hold me for a moment.

just hold me, 

don’t talk, don’t ask me why

don’t imply that i’m not fine.

maybe like that you’ll make me strong again. 

(stop me from falling apart.)   

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

title: too much to ask

about: a homeless love

i can’t ask you to love me or  to hold me tight when tears are streaming down my face.

i can’t ask you to slow dance with me  on rainy nights in our small apartment  we worked so hard to get. 

i can’t ask you to love me  when your heart is devoted to the one  you call your soulmate. 

just notice me. it’s enough.

song: money power glory // lana del rey

[rottensugars]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15861699/chapters/36949728

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

a series of letters

dear mother,

late at nights, i tend to think about you even if i can’t put a face to your name.

i wonder if you do remember my name. we both have it. (it’s the same) 

i wonder if you think about me. i do, and it’s leaving me with an aching heart and a tear-stained face.

when i’m alone at nights and i want to cry, i think about the fact that you abandoned me as a baby. (it’s always working and it seems like no matter time has passed, i cry myself to sleep).

did you leave me because you knew i would grow up as a broken-hearted child? was i not good enough? was it because i was a girl and the rest of your children were boys?

what was it? i ask myself.

i’m turning eighteen in three weeks, mother. did you know that? have you counted the years as they passed? have you given up three seconds of your precious time just to think about me? have you ever asked yourself “what’s my girl doing?” do you even think about me?

you should because you were the first one to broke me and i don’t even know the sound of your voice or if you prefer tea over coffee.

all i know is that the thought of you makes me cry.

honestly, the girl you were supposed to be a mother to

7//22//2018

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

a series of letters

my muse,

please receive my heart as it is: a humble gift. i know it’s not much, but it’s everything i have and i want to give it to you.

(you can put it next to your jar of hearts.)

i want to give it to you bloodless (did you know it will turn white?), yet full of the love i have for you. and even like that, detached and drained of blood, if it’d hear your voice, it’d start to beat again, faster, wilder than before. (just like the first time i saw you thirty-six months ago. i think that was the first time i felt my heart beating.)

only for you my muse: my heart and my everlasting love.

the one who writes about you

8//24//18

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

title: the worth

about: of being perfect

pretty young girl, you are dying.

pretty young girl, you dance around with a flower crown on your head and a pitching stomach ache. you look so beautiful.

but let me ask you,

is it worth it? to feel like dying every time you put food in your mouth when you want to spit it out.

is it worth it? suffocating your demons with a cigarette every three minutes.

is it worth it? hating yourself until the society sees you as perfect when you are decaying, turning into dust just like you never existed.

let me ask you,

is it worth it? 

song: breathe me // sia

[naked-thoughts-about-her]

title: run away about: just you and me

let’s run away, just you and me.

bring along your favourite shirt and i’ll bring the guitar with me, ready to play it for you any minute.

let’s run away. let’s make a home out of every place we visit, out of every town that tells us stories about bleeding gods, shooting stars, memories and undying vows. 

let’s run away. i’ll wait for you in front of the railway station, ready to make the world our final destination.

let’s run away, just you and me and everything in between.

song: sleep on the floor // the lumineers