"If you stopped seeing the world in terms of what you like and dislike and saw things for what they truly are in themselves, you would find a great deal of peace in your life."
~Patrick Jane.
Zafer!Şiir
Kalem filizlenirken parmaklarımın ucunda
Harfler hasat ediyorum
Ki! Suçu yoktur cümlelerimin
Oysa
Şimdi
Kavramlarımla yargılanıyorum
Anayasan suç like’lıyorlar
Savunmam
Dislike alıyor;
Savcı be hakim tarafından
Avukatım
Yasal boşlukları kovalarken tazı gibi
Ben hülyalarımda
Yağlı urganla sevişiyorum
Tabutumu şiirlere taşıtıyorum
Kafiyelerim ellerini açmış dua ediyor
Satır satır
Kıta kıta
Rahmet dilencisiyim
Gözlerimde perde kalkıyor
Aguşunu açmış
Beni bekliyor nöbetçi zebani
Sırtımda;
Günahın küfeleri
Tek boş olan yok
Yargılanıyorum mizanda
What is he?
“I’m a lady. You seem to forget that when you’re around me,” she said.
He pointed his finger at her. “You seem to forget that when you’re around
me.”
She leaned forward. “You continuously provoke me! Since the moment I
met you, you’ve been combative! I don’t know if you’re a friend, an ally, or
what.”
Justan looked genuinely hurt as he flinched. “I’ve sailed half the southern
seas to save your life. Every day I think of new ways of keeping you safe,
scouring words to protect you. At least consider me an ally,” he breathed.
He was right. He’d done her bidding, but why? Why did he wish to save
her so badly? What was she to him? If she’d died, they would’ve appointed
another High Seat. He wouldn’t have lost his post. On the contrary, Almira
would have rewarded him for attempting to save Hira’s life. A noble act.
“Why did you? You could’ve left me to die. You could’ve ignored my
words and had my arm amputated. Why didn’t you?” Hira asked the
questions which plagued her, the questions she’d painted into the air as she
laid pursuing sleep these many nights. Questions she didn’t dare voice.
“I respected your uncle,” he admitted and glanced away. “He was… one
of my only friends. I couldn’t abandon his niece and heir, even when
everyone urged me to.”
A strange statement. She’d not expected him to think highly of Lord
Beltran.
“So, because of my uncle? That’s the only reason? Out of respect for a
dead man?”
He looked at her with those stormy brown eyes. Here, sitting so close to
him, her mind drowned in the notion of how handsome he was and how
disfigured she’d become. Now that he had no attachment, he was quite the
catch. Despite her own insecurities, which she knew she would have to
work through, he didn’t seem to dislike her scars.
“Also, because you asked me to. I may be
really dislike it when i talk about a movie and someone says "oh that sounds interesting i will watch" and i say "okay yey" then i never hear from them??? i mean did you watch it did you not watch it did you like it or do you just hate me forever? do you think i'm a freak or a genius with an amazing taste i don't know keep me updated please
Maybe ?
I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love. I am still so naive; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe? 
Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath