Poetry

It is so hard to forget someone
Who gave so much to remember 🤍

He Said He’d Be Back

Fourteen missed calls.

4 a.m.

A doorbell.

My brother at the door, and something about the way he falls that tells me my life is about to split into before and after.

No.

I spoke to Pops a few hours ago.

How much can a few hours take from you?

The next day, my house fills with people. Men downstairs, women in the bedrooms. My kitchen, my rooms, my space. Everyone has somewhere to sleep except me. Where do you go when your home is full of people who keep reminding you that your father is dead?

I want everyone to leave.

I want my house back.

I want my Baba back.

People speak, and all I hear is the tense.

Was

He was a good man. He was a wonderful father.

As if the right verb will make the rest of us catch up.

He’s just on a trip.

He said he’d be back.

Why is nobody listening?

Stop telling me to be patient. Stop telling me crying won’t help. Stop touching me.

I don’t need another person in this house. I need the one who isn’t here.

I look in the mirror.

His eyes. Those eyebrows.

How much of a person can stay behind without the person?

His advice, tucked into old conversations. Lessons I didn’t know were lessons until there was no one left to teach them.

He taught me how to live.

He forgot to tell me what to do when he died.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Just an ordinary conversation. No warning. No final words I could hold up to the light later and convince myself I should have known.

Just dad.

Just me.

And then the world decided that was enough.

My house is full.

Dad is nowhere.

Everyone else has moved him into the past.

I haven’t figured out how to follow.

Fourteen missed calls. Fourteen chances for the world to be wrong.

And somewhere, in a version of my life I cannot reach anymore, I have just spoken to my dad and he is still here.

He is still here.

I look in the mirror again.

His eyes. His eyebrows.

The face I inherited from a man I cannot call.

He said he’d be back.

So I wait.

Not because I don’t understand what they’re telling me.

Because some things can be understood a thousand times without ever making sense.

So you think you're a Queen version 2

So - where is this kingdom, exactly? Where are the walls? The people? The throne you're sitting on?

From what fairy tale, exactly?

Who told you that story, and what made you believe it was about you? Somebody filled your head with castles and devoted kings and people kneeling, and you just... accepted it?

Still mistaken this fantasy for your future plan?

I've looked around. There's no throne. No kingdom. Nobody's flying banners for you. Nobody's lining up for your wisdom.
No Prince Charming is riding down your street looking for you.
No empire is rising or falling because you said so.

And yet you talk like reverence is owed to you. Like it's your birthright instead of something you earn. Like the world should just step aside because you decided you're worth it.

What rule says the extraordinary has to come looking for the ordinary and hand himself over?

So tell me - what have you actually fought for? What have you carried? What did you sacrifice to get here? What wisdom have you acquired for your subjects?

A crown isn't a costume. A title isn't a wish. And believing you're a queen doesn't make you one.

You want a king. Some man noble enough to worship you, strong enough to protect you, patient enough to put up with you, devoted enough to put you above everyone else.

But why would he exist? Why should he?

Real life never worked that way. It asks what you bring, not what you want.

Not all that you wish for comes true.

Do you abandon hope?

True longing prevails.

—Icarus

As the years go by… what’s left of the past are these photos of what once was.
Trying to navigate these changes with a teen is a different experience in itself. Alhamdulillah. ❤️

Assalamu Alaikum everyone 🌹

Let's have an honest debate.

In today's Muslim society, do you think we have made marriage unnecessarily difficult?

Expensive weddings, high expectations, family interference, financial demands and unrealistic standards.

Is it really Islam making marriage difficult, or have we made it difficult ourselves through culture and society?

Brothers and sisters, I'd love to hear both sides. Don't just agree — tell us WHY you agree or disagree. 👀

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DeZqhnxqpik/?mdxt=OGlsYXc2aDhqdnB6

When I'm no longer here, you'll search for me in your loneliness.

Who will share your sorrows then?
Who will lovingly put up with your moods and take care of you the way I did? 💔🥀

And I held on to you, didn’t I?
Despite all you put me through
I held strong to the words said to me
I felt like it was beyond what I could bear

I took the blame
For everything
And I will continued to so
I will carry the memories
Of those dark days that passed

How can I not live in fear?
When I trusted you to take care of me
When I trusted you to protect me
You were there
But why did make me go through it all
What did I do wrong to deserve this

But still I’ll take the blame
I’ll take the fault
I’ll carry the sins
And I’ll try to repair

Could you walk a step towards me?
As I have walked towards you
Can you hear my heart, my agony?
Or will I be blamed again
That I love to live in pain

It’s all on me in the end
It’s all on me in the end

He knows it burns him, and still he adores it. He gives his whole self to the very thing that destroys him, and he never asks to be let go. Some loves are not chosen. They are carried, quietly, in the dark.
Would you still choose it, knowing the cost? 🖤

Asiece Yousaf