by Aysu Naz Atalay
Lately, I find myself absorbed in days I didn't want to write about (maybe some experiences are meant to be lived and not documented). Here I am — yearning for a space to rage. Yes, I definitely need a space to rage. These are times when the inner critic refuses to shut up. I bought myself a massive water bottle so I could remember to unfold myself into it until I felt liquid. Why do I like carrying things so much? I need to sleep, and I need to hear my loved ones laughing. For the silliest shit. And I’m becoming. Becoming more and more. Until there is no more. Tomorrow. And I’m observing. Observing the spirit of an old body. And I’m asking her: How are you feeling? As if I’m a youth, she says. Then she adds, my child, a happy spirit never gets old. And I don’t understand. Everything is daunting. I’m a child. I need to sleep, and I need to eat. Observing an elderly body. Tired, irritated, and, most of the time, afraid. Timeless and loving woman. Her exceptional love for self expanded more and more. She became more and more. We became more and more. Today, you told me what hunger feels like in your body. You seemed irritated and angry. You said it appears in waves, and it doesn’t go away. You couldn’t sleep when I wasn’t in the bed. You are scared; I am also. Part of you is part of me. Someone asked me what you mean to me. I said, “she is the only person I successfully loved – so far.” And that was not a lie. Only if I could, I would be born again and love you more. Love your old body. Love your wrinkled hands. Love your voice and love your silk hair. And you might die soon. And I might not be there. But today, I am able to see your body. You look exhausted. You think too much these days. Do you ever daydream? You always love telling me about the past. I love listening again and again. You are just so beautiful. It’s hard to believe. I’m holding so much; it’s hard for me to feel.
Aysu (she/her) is a writer interested in poetic and erotic forms of expression. She explores childhood traumas, transitions, sexuality, and self through writing. Aysu uses embodiment of witchcraft and rituals as an immersive way of expressing identity. Currently, she is working on her book that brings together embodiment, psychedelics, body, rituals and poetry. You can find her on instagram @aysunazatalay