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Artistportrait of a human with transparent skin revealing swirling constellations, tangled nerves that look like galaxies, veins glowing like electric rivers — handwritten notes and fragmented poems floating beneath the surface — one eye made of a clock, the other dissolving into smoke — intricate detailed surrealism, chaotic harmony, deep emotional symbolism, dreamlike atmosphere — ethereal textures, shimmering cosmic light, cinematic lighting, high contrast, ultra-realistic fine details — poetic madness, melancholic beauty, spiritual introspection — surreal fine art portrait, 8k ultra detailed, dramatic focus, emotional storytelling — © Ferit Sahin in corner, subtle elegant signature
Sometimes I feel them — the lights beneath my skin.
They flicker when I stay silent too long.
They pulse whenever a memory awakens that should have died by now.
I am not made of flesh — I am made of stardust and unfinished notes.
My body is only the vessel where old voices gather,
whispering, trembling, unredeemed.
Beneath my skin drift galaxies of pain.
Some have names. Others — only scars.
I’ve stopped counting them.
When you look at me, you may see only skin —
but in truth, you’re staring into a burning firmament.
I have become transparent,
from seeing too much, from keeping too much.
Inside me echo the things that were never spoken.
They scratch my nerves, they write poems into my wounds.
I am the shadow of my own memory —
and yet, I still glow,
because darkness is visible only when something within it burns.
-© Ferit Sahin
