The Wetness of My Pillow
Every time others began the chitchat, the piss race between kids,
Gracefully I put a smile as if I had any idea.
Ohhh –I had them, fully in flesh and bones, walking and talking,
But not existing for me –in my world.
Feeling of an unending need. There they were in chock-full of quietness,
Standing as a wall against me. Don´t stare at me, see me –the still cries don´t bother,
I am used to that.
Nights pass by and my pillow is still not dry.
Enough, I say, and I question whether they will ever transform into
My innermost delusions.
Holes in my bones, aching every time I run towards…
HOLD MY HAND, AND WALK BY ME.
–NO!
You´re alone by yourself.
Safety net I never had, the fish I was in the vast ocean of absence,
Swimming against the mainstream school of fish. No doubt I ever grow to be like others,
Full with memories happy enough for me but not for them.
Never allowing myself to show the emerald blood flows through my heart,
Keep wrapping itself in the gauze of denial, dripping continuously to my pillow.
Longing of any memory fills my sad void, and like a small child who wets the bed,
I will wet my pillow tonight, chasing them in my dreams, waiting for a time they need me
Just like I did and still do.
27 year old Yenigün Batu was born in Istanbul, Turkey. Everything started with her telling a made up story to her sister, Yazgülü why she was not allowed to play with Yenigün ́s toys. From then on, the storyteller awakened in Yenigün. She created stories throughout her whole life but she was not able to share them with anyone for a long time. This is an opportunity she starves for a really long time. Last year, she obtained a Master ́s Degree in English and American Studies. Her thesis deals with the role of fate and gods in A Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin. She has interests not only in literature and culture but also in philosophy and theology. Currently, she is searching for an answer to her existence and chasing her Muse.
