quiet nighttime.
cool street cool air cool girl.
snapping fingers in rhythm
to midsummer heart beats,
all so even and exactly similar
that mine shake the darling buds
as much as the next guy’s.

cool street.
feet crush ground
in an unforgiving relationship.
feet are feathers and mothers.
feet are constant ticking of clocks.
feet are trains of thought
leaving footprints in the snow and gravel
grating as they go.

cool air.
breathe once for clarity, twice for recollection.
lungs filled with icy winters
wake sleeping bears
and exhale the sparks of the crackling fires through limp tongues.
the juxtaposition of the unsaid.

cool girl.
you can’t relate anymore
the leather jacket feels thinner
and you slowly melt into anything but right in the mirror.
eye contact was made up
by those who can afford to choke
on perfume and tight gags.

use up the last candle
to move into the age of headlights.
it’s always brightest before the
greatest hits.
cool street cool air cool girl.
quiet nighttime.

Day 7: Presents

It’s that time
The pressure
building up
inside of you
to find
the perfect gift.

You try to be
Santa Claus
without the
red suit and
long white beard.

You find the gift though and
begin to
wrap it in
fancy Christmas wrapping paper.
gold, and
is involved in the wrapping paper choices.
Don’t forget the
fancy ribbons.
after you put the gift completely
you add a little
Christmas note on the gift.
You write
to the person

They’ll never know
it was you
all along.

We live inside each others daydreams. I’m only allowed to love you inside of my head because in real life you are a thousand miles away. In real life we’ve only ever spoken a few times. In real life we are too scared of what might happen we don’t make anything happen. But in our heads we hold each other. We love each other like we are one. In my daydreams I kiss you, in my daydreams I tell you all of the things my lips refuse to say to you. I wish I was as brave in real life as I am inside of my head, I wish I knew what you felt like when your arms were around me.

Your body
still remembers
the time you
hurt yourself

Your body
still remembers
the time you
cried yourself to sleep

Your body
still remembers
the time you moved
cities with a look

Your body still has
the scars from
that night when
he left you

Your body
still remembers the time
you were left between
death and life

Your body
still remembers
the burns you gave it
because it felt good

Your body
still remembers
the hell you’ve been
through to feel your soul

Your body
still remembers
even though
you don’t

Your body
still remembers
every touch
and every breath

And your body
still remembers
every lonely moment
and every lost second

Just look
at your body
and you will see
your past

- Hazel Hira Özbek

May we meet again
in ten years
in another life,
when things are right,
when our hearts aren’t broken,
when our thoughts aren’t a mess,
when the ghosts
of us aren’t haunting us,
when we won’t have to
turn our backs on each other
and lead another road,
when it’s our right time
to fix the broken
to love again.
By then it won’t
be the wrong time
or a forbidden love,
it will be another chance
to make things right
when we couldn’t before.
—  R.K
When a boy tells you he loves you, watch the way his mouth forms the words. Is his voice a stuttering apology, or as smooth as honey. When a boy first kisses you, watch his hands. Do they touch your cheek, light as a butterfly’s wing or do they grasp your hip bones. When a boy first breaks your heart, watch the way he leaves. Does his voice rise in anger, or shrink in pain. Does his absence leave a hole, or just a slight crack.
I tell strangers about you, but only about the times we were happy. I paint a picture of you where you didn’t leave a knife in my back. I’ve become so good at it that I learnt to believe my own lies. And when they say how beautiful our love story is, I just smile and wonder if you tell strangers about me.
I was so sad over you. I couldn’t even speak somedays. My mother thought I was losing my mind, I knew I was. I didn’t want to get of bed in the mornings and I cried three times a day. I couldn’t fall asleep without waking up in the middle of the night yelling your name. I was scared, I still am scared. What if I never love someone so much that it hurts again? What if you were the only? What if you were the one?

I saw her
she was naturally curvy
and extraordinarily beautiful

It was a sunny
she had a painful smile and the most
miserable laugh I had ever seen

She was barely
she was invisible to her family
and everyone around her

I saw her arms, her
she tried to escape many times
she hated this prison called life

She was eating or more like fighting
with the food
the sadness was all around her
poisoning everyone

I saw her today for the first
she was surrounded by evil thoughts
self harm, ED, depression and more

Her blue eyes will haunt me
another beautiful innocent soul with no
help and no way out of this hell

- Hazel Hira Özbek

Before you decide that he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with know that he was mine and I was his. I came before you and there isn’t a place where my hands haven’t been. He loved me. He might still love me now and if you ever fall asleep beside him- know that I one day did too with my head on his chest. I loved him. I think that I might still love him now.
Before you decide that he’s the one for you- know that I, too, thought there would never be a day where I’d have to live without him- know that I was wrong. He doesn’t know how to stay and you won’t be the one to teach him. You won’t be the one he stays for. His mother raised him to belong too much to hisself and never to anyone else and I wish somebody would have told me that. I wouldn’t have spent so much time loving him if I had known what you know now and I don’t mean for this to sound bitter - but sometimes love isn’t enough to stay.