NIGHT TIME VISITORS IN A HOSPITAL

 The white lillies in my lungs

 aren't the ones that tries to stop my breath,  

I know better.

The spot under the trees are vacant

 without lovers to hold each other's hands because it's night.

White angels with pills in their hands walk through the corridors smiling ,

and I stay under the blankets,

 a fruit scooped out,

 hollow without it's sweet flesh. 

At night the guests come in a line, 

smiling and crying 

preparing their eulogy. 

There is a mermaid with broken tail

 swimming in a glass of water.

The smell of early summer 

I won't be able to hold.

The love stained first kiss

in the wooden memory box. 

The "he" shaped wound

 pressed in moonlight cobblestones. 

The dramatic post cards

from coastal town of Spain 

I never visited.

The cherry blossoms

dipped in the morning tea  .

Tiny stars spilling

 from the tongue of 

an  internet friend whom I never met.

Perfect easter eggs gifted 

to a homeless old man 

with balding head. 

Red ribbon on a Christmas present

 from my favorite aunt.

Covers of k pop albums

with signs of idols who told  

to love yourself.

The rap of the knuckles 

on the table of an ancient cafe.

Grim reaper singing "happy birthday " 

because it's a new life

,

in a new place waiting.