His words weigh more in his poems than his laughter does in comments or in life.
He surprises me sometimes, that how someone his age can be so careful with language, so experienced with feelings, so gentle with phrases?
No doubt he is a nalayak, pagal, a full-time dramebazz and a little monkey too, but he is also careful, sweet, a strange mix of omnivert and selectrovert energy.
He even carries a few of my own qualities; like oversharing, overthinking, and mastering the rare art of regretting decisions both before and after making them.
Snowy Istanbul lives rent-free in his mind. His heart wanders in its streets, dreaming along the Bosphorus, chasing red trams and stories only he knows how to write.
And since I'm already lying in this poem, let me lie a little more.
He is shy sometimes, cutaa, annoying almost always, but still the kind of person no one could miss in a crowded room.
He could test every single brain cell I have by doing absolutely nothing particular; just by being himself.
There's a very chaotic gremlin inside him, and a mischievous little insect that occasionally bites him and makes him delete perfectly beautiful stories.
And yet somehow, he remains one of the sweetest humans I know.
He is soft, he is sunshine wrapped in noise, and he is growing into someone his poems already know he is meant to be.
Yes, yes, most of you already guessed.
This is for usmyy; someone who is probably from earth… research is still in progress, so kindly stay connected for future updates.
Thank you for reading! 💛