It's another beautiful sunset.
We're here again sitting against each other. I close my eyes as you start to talk about her. Only this time. I'm not hoping it was me.
You stop talking when you realise that my "hms" have stopped matching the rhythm of your "right?s" and silence consumes us like all the other times. Only this time. It doesn't force me to start another conversation.
Silence is sound. It doesn't need words to communicate.
It doesn't need words to say that when my love was young, it was the stars colliding into each other at full force. It was a hurricane demolishing everything in its path .It was a fire inside of me.
But as we grow older, we grow apart.
Now. My love is apathy. It is the cold breeze on a summer evening. It is the sip of hot chai in a winter morning. My love is silence. It is peace.
Silence is wise. Every time you break me.
He picks me up and puts me together piece by piece. Hands bloodied by the shards of broken hearts and minds. He smiles.
"You're going to be okay."
But will I be really?
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
About Her...
RastgeleWhen people say I talk too much. I transfer my thoughts onto pages. Well in this case, an orange app.
