We’re meant to mourn the dead
Not the breathing, not the living
But what’s the difference between you and a corpse
Your mute silhouette on your perfunctory visits?
They do nothing but rip open the wound
She becomes a marionette, playing happy in the hope that your living corpse comes alive and returns to her
He sits in silence, as if he’s shut mouth will contain the breaking of his heart.
We’ve meant to mourn the dead
Not the living, not the breathing
We lie to each other
We tell each other you give a fucking shit
For admitting the truth will kill them
And you won’t even mourn their dead corpses
Every thought bubble of your existence
Every crisis, real or perceived, you experience
Every thing or every one you can’t figure out
Every pain you feel
Every exchange you have
Every emotion you feel
Every time you feel lonely
Every time you are scared
Every time you are sad
Every time you don’t know what to do
I AM SO SICK OF BEING THE DUMPING GROUND!!!!
I AM A HUMAN BEING!
STOP TREATING ME LIKE YOUR RUBBISH TIP
MAN THE FUCK UP AND DEAL WITH YOUR LIFE.
My mamma told me to walk away
The pain will stop
And I did
The pain doesn’t stop
But self respect returns
Embalming my heart
Giving me hope that the pain will stop
I’m so tired of this farce
Created in my own mind with my heart as its accomplice.
I dream of you, imagine being with you
In a world where we are one.
You are the guy that every woman dreams off
Safe, manly, kind
Like a bear hug that makes it all better
Funny, silly, responsible
A pleasant contradiction
A jerk, annoying, loving
Leaving me wanting to strangle you and curl up in your arms at the same time
But it’s that mind and heart playing tricks again, lulling me into the fantasy which I want to hold onto just for a moment longer.
And I snap out of it and continue to be your friend.
And in your moment of loneliness you reach out and caress this longing
And every pep talk and lecture on reality I’ve tried to brainwash myself with flies out the window and I am like an addict taking anything I can get.
But I’m tired now, those bursts of moments where every part of me comes alive aren’t enough. I need more. I want more and you are oblivious to all of it.
You are my friend
With bursts of deceptive love.
And I am in love with you
Everyday, all day
But I’m tired
It’s gnawing away at my heart
It’s a stab wound to the heart every time I hear about you and her or her or her or her or her and rationality has gone out the window and I’m left feeling psychotic because of every thought that enters my mind and shatters my heart.
I’m tired now and my heart and mind must stop!
When you sat down next to me, I was surprised by you, you were nothing that I expected but there was this frisson in this new found surprise.
I looked at you and somehow knew that you felt it too. Amongst the crowd, we kept finding each other, words unnecessary. It was enough just to be close by.
It was only after that I realised that I looked my worst, unwashed travel weary face, disheveled clothes from a 24 hour journey, all forgotten when you didn’t notice any of it.
I noticed you change the plans and knew you changed them for me and it confirmed what I felt. When you sat down next to me at dinner, my heart stopped for this moment and you smiled, almost as if you knew. Everyone and everything seized to exist.
All the exhaustion I felt disappeared as we talked till the wee hours of the morning. We knew we were avoiding the inevitable. I was pushing the thought aside, wanting to be denial, silently begging to never have to hear the truth.
You belong to someone else. I will never be the woman who ignores that and you will never be the man who betrays. So we, we will continue to pretend.
We are friends
We are colleagues
We share no connection
I want to call you baby
And lean over and rest my forehead on your chest
And you bend forward planting a kiss on my head…
I want to call you mine
And whisper sweet nothings in your ears
And hear you laugh, that manic giggle that makes my heart sing
I want to tell you how much I love you
And I want to see it mirrored in your soul.
I sit here in front of you
Smile plastered on my face
Encouraging words falling out of my mouth
Listening to you talk about your dreams,
Dreams that have no place for me
I want you
I found this in my drafts from December 2010, I can’t remember what was happening in my world at the time but some things, years on, still resonate.
I want to lose myself in your streets,
walking through the bazaars
hawkers selling ful and felafel
the smell dancing on the breeze
dark eyes looking at me
smiles and whispered secrets
i’m so tempted to flirt back
Ah, the old people who have lived history
if only the language was not a barrier
maybe it’s not, their eyes tell me a story
let’s sit in this cafe and share a cup of tea,
we don’t need words when we are stitched together by humanity.
Back to the hotel, a glimpse of reality
anxious to get out again and live
kohl rimmed eyes, wanting to imitate, wanting to belong
the belly dancers jingle beckons
simple food that tastes like manna
stolen glances, shy smiles, eyes concealed by black eyelashes, enticing curiosity
the first deep breath, double apple and mint,awakening your senses
the beat of the drum lifts you up, your body moves to the beat
closer, smoke and perfume, intoxicating,
the mind, heart and body duel, who will win?
I was browsing through my newsfeed and an article on fetal cells caught my eye. Basically, babies transfer cells to their mothers through the placenta ad these cells stay with the mother, and has lots of benefits like helping her fight disease. (Short version)
It got me thinking, God chose for me to not have kids.
I know that at the best of times, I’m skeptical about having them but it felt quite different thinking of it like that.
There was a part of me that became sad to think that maybe God, for whatever reason, doesn’t want me to have kids.
I’m a big believer in naseeb and taqdeer. That’s one of the things that come with not having a husband, no kids.
And this is Gods plan for me, Subhanallah.
That Him and I were not meant to be
In my waking moments, conscious
Every moment without
My womb being ripped out with cold gnarly razor edged fingers, bloody
Never to be the same
That him and I were never meant to be
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