Flowers in Tombs

My therapist told me that when I get anxiety and urges to self harm; that I should start writing. So last night, I did. (If you have trigger points, related to self harm, do not read further.) 

 

I’m a disease. An epidemic. And I’m gonna spread like I always do until everyone I love is the same broken worthless piece of shit as me. Until they also become dysfunctional.
The worst part about me is that I look like a wonderful human being but all that is a lie, a cover up to make people fall for this act of innocence and purity. And when they start to love me, oh boy. I start releasing my venom slowly into their veins until the began to need me and become paralysed. Then I heal them and act like I am an angel.
I’m a disease. An epidemic. I go around pretending I have a disease and I take medicines for it but that is not true. It’s all me.
And that is why I deserve these scratches on my arm. Heck I deserve them everywhere. I deserve blood coming out of my broken skin cause I am a seemingly beautiful mess that deceives nice people.
Why am I even asking for help and letting them know about this? Now that they have started to realize how full of shit I am and have begun to try and care for themselves away from me because they really can’t do it near me because I ruin it. Why now? I should stop. 11 times or 121; why should anyone know? Why not cut them all off and run away? Once and for all? Just me and my demons dancing together in perfect harmony cause we belong in each other’s arms.
It’s better than slowly being hated and hated and hated and hated and hated until one day they just say it out loud that I don’t deserve anything from them. It’s better to say it to myself beforehand. It’s better to leave everyone beforehand. Before I hurt them. Before I burn them. Before I make them bleed like they made me.

Damn, that felt good. I would say I’m sorry for making you read that but I’m really not. I wanted to show you what anxiety and depression look like and I was in it when it was the only reality I could see so I don’t want to apologise.
Now, to the “beautiful saviors” themselves, the mental illnesses.

First of all, fuck you.
I would say I hate you
but you’ve lived inside of me
For more years than I can count
And I don’t want to accidentally say I hate myself.

Come on, you already made me do that
nine thousand and two times
(not counting accidents).

You say you’re here to protect me from all the abhorrent people
but they seem to me, to be
the ones who birthed you within me
And now you want me to be the surrogate carrier?

I’m sorry but I don’t love you that way
Or them, for that matter.
You’re not here to save me
from anyone but myself.
And I’m the only good thing I know
So no.
Thanks.

I don’t want to be safe from my best friend,
Or my mom
Or even the boy who left,
These are my loves.
You can’t twist them and break me
and take them away.

You’re a perpetrator

A trespasser.
I know I fell for your tricks
and that should make me less than you
but fuck you
I am strong as hell.

And you can watch me someday,
spreading all the love I have in me,
today. And so can they.

For my heart will forever be open
Even if it’s scared to fall in love again
Even when it can’t trust people
or want to make my own bed
or eat
or sleep
or pray to my Allah.

You won the battle last night,
and I am going to have to carry these scars on my arms
as proofs, forever.
but fuck you
I’m winning the war.

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“Weeps December”

Weeps my heart and weeps December

I hope that you will always remember 

The pearl you held in your palm, white

Back when our fire burned bright

I wonder when it burned us both

Ought to give warmth, but turned us both

Into strangers, running on parallel paths

Through the moon’s eclipse and the night’s wrath

Oh when will the stars come out again?

Oh when will the dawn of hope begin? 

I will meet you then, at the first sunrise

Where the abyss collides with paradise

I’ll show my book of adventures to you

And you’ll find your home, with my chaos too

’til it’s calm like the breeze your soul brings 

And we shall be made of beautiful things

But first, oh love, we must get through

The trials fate birthed, maybe to prove

The strength of our faith in what we hold

How brave we are and just how bold

Let the season weep! We shall endure

In the end, our hearts will have only loved more.


(Fun fact: I came up with the first verse of this poem 8 months ago, in December; and didn’t want to change that just now when I wrote the rest of it. Hope you liked it! :))

Threads #33

​There are some people we meet that are destined to make us failures. They’re part of our losses and pains.

But you? You’re part of my win. And I don’t mind if it takes me my whole life to get to that win, I will get there. Because when the universe does us favours, we don’t give them up. We don’t let go.

Read more “Threads”

“MIRACLES”

Miracles are not always loud and close.

Not always mountains that crumble to the ground
or ships that sail with high winds against them.

No, no, no.

In all actuality, miracles are often found
sipping coffee in the background
as you scream and fight with your fate.

They are waiting for you to stop for a moment and look around.

And many a times, they come to you
but you are too large-eyed to look at something that seems so small.

Your belittling drives them away.

But friend, if only you knew how many miracles touched you
on just how many rainy days;

you would not have been feeling so alone.
There just was no way.


Somewhat poetic, somewhat random. Mostly just fragments from a coffee-driven brain. ^-^ Hope you liked it!

“TRANSCENDENCE”

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Image source

“TRANSCENDENCE”

Strange faces in an even stranger town!
You pull up your cloak to conceal your crown
This place is no shelter for people of wonder
If ever, they existed, they were pushed down under

How long have you lived in a land unknown?
Do you dream of stars, or do you call it home?
Do you hide your light to fit in to the dark
That surrounded you always, with only hints of sparks

But do you not know that it is your scintillation,
That has kept you pure amidst abominations?
Don’t you know this silent rebellion of yours,
Has kept the wounded from bleeding any more?

I am no angel but a chaser of light
Sometimes it withers, sometimes it is bright!
I am friends with your monsters, and you are with mine
And we shall transcend together to a land divine. 

Beautiful Things.

I promised myself I would post more, right after I wrote this which kinda explains why I was so lost for so much time. So I looked through the memos in my phone and found two small pieces that I think will make you happy. I hope you like them! 🙂

Here is the first:post-2

And the second, to make sure it ends in hope, always:

post-1

 

THE RENEWAL (A SHORT STORY)

Hello everyone. I usually don’t write short stories because they end up being really graphic for some reason. This one below is no different. But I think no matter how optimistic we are, we need to still realistically acknowledge the world around us. So I hope you like it!


“Your body is a sacred temple and I want permission to it,” he smiled as he spoke.

She looked at the ground and smiled back as teardrops rolled down her cheek, one after another.

“Why are you smiling like that? Wait, why are you crying? Are you okay?!”

“Don’t worry it’s nothing.
It’s just that… No one ever asked before.”

He held her hands as she looked up to him; and the courage of the five oceans gathered inside one body as she opened her mouth to speak.

“They did not ask before they used me. They did not ask before they took my body like taking something off of a shelf whenever they felt like it. Not when they used me for their anger; not when they used me for their lust.”

“I know. But it’s okay now.” He tightened his grip around her hands and brought them to his chest.

“I have marks on my body of bruises that once were blue; scars from wounds that bled and the traces of hands that did not remember they had a God. I have the air from that locked, dark room inside my lungs. I have the sound of the man who whispered  “its only a game” in my ears and the man who screamed at the top of his lungs inches away from me, telling me I will be killed if I don’t shut up, if I do not stop crying after he beat me up. So shut up I did as they all got away with their actions.

I have been used over and over again and not one single time was I asked beforehand.”

“I know, my love, but I’d never use you. I am not them; even though I am a man. I did not marry you for that.”

“Then why did you marry me?” She looked back at him, replying to his gaze with a hopeful but afraid look in her eyes.

“Because… because you’re so much more. You’re more than the hands that made your skin go blue. You are more than the hands that didn’t know where to stop. You are more than filthy gazes and lies. You are more than forced obedience; or used goods.

Stars filled her eyes as he continued:

“You are human. You are kind, you are smart, you are gentle and mighty. You hold entire galaxies within you. You have no idea what you are. Not just to me but to the whole world.

So don’t you dare define yourself using incidents and people who do not deserve to even see your smile. You are not what happened to you. You are what happened by you. and I swear to God that makes you more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever known in my entire life. And your body, love, is not your prison. It is your home.”