Poetry

If u fall into the spell of someone's eyes, maybe seperation is a given.....
Do u remember when u stole words from my pen,
Ironic how every word I strung for u faded....
If u fall for intricate emotions, maybe u must brace for the intoxication to die....
Do u remember when my every word made u smile and cry?
If u fell for the power in them, know that the hurt in every sense of yours is your due penance.....
Remember that the price of your betrayal made me an unbeliever in love......
If u fell for intensity, maybe pain is a necessity.....
Now to address this cruelness, I can't remember what to call you.....

They say,
‘You have a big heart’.
But they don’t understand,
The painful weight of it… ❤️‍🩹

I stopped asking people to choose me. The right person will never make me feel like an option.

𝑨 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑶𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔
𝑩𝒚.‌🇨‌‌🇭‌‌🇮‌‌🇰‌‌🇦‌
𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒌,
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔.
𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎,
𝑨 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔.
𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆,𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏,
𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍.
𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓,𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒑 𝑰 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖,
𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.
𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂,
𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒔.
𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆,𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌,
𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔,
𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕,𝒃𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆.
𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖,𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖,
𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆,
𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆,𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕.
𝑶𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒋𝒆𝒘𝒆𝒍 𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒎,
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕,
𝑰𝒈𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒖𝒆.
𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒍,
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒄𝒕,𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕.
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅,
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅—𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆.
"𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝑰 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕,𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓."

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒏 𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒌 𝑲𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏
𝑩𝒚.‌🇨‌‌🇭‌‌🇮‌‌🇰‌‌🇦‌
𝑨𝒌𝒖 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒑𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒌 𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈,
𝑫𝒊 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒊 𝒌𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒌𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒖𝒌𝒂.
𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒎𝒖 𝒏𝒂𝒉𝒌𝒐𝒅𝒂 𝒅𝒊 𝒓𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒂,
𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒂𝒉 𝒌𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒂.
𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒃 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒌𝒖,𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒉𝒌𝒐𝒕𝒂,
𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒌𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒋𝒊𝒘𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒂.
𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒏,𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒉 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒌 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒖𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊,
𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒉𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊 𝒌𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒎𝒖 𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒊.
𝑲𝒂𝒖 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒂,𝒃𝒂𝒉𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒌𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈,
𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒉 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒖𝒑 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈.
𝑱𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒉 𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒉 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒌𝒖 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂𝒑 𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒉,
𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒃 𝒔𝒂𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒉𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒕𝒖 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒂𝒅𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒉,
𝑨𝒌𝒖 𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒂𝒅𝒊 𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒌 𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒉.
𝑩𝒖𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒌 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒎𝒖,𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒌 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒎𝒖,
𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒖𝒉𝒎𝒖 𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒓 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒂𝒌 𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒉,
𝑯𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒓,𝒂𝒌𝒖 𝒋𝒂𝒖𝒉 𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒊𝒉 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊 𝒂𝒑𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒅𝒖𝒈𝒂.
𝑲𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒉 𝒌𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒊 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒌 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒎𝒖,
𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒏 𝒌𝒂𝒖 𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒉 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒋𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒉 𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒖,
𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒊𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒌 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂.
𝑲𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒉𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒉,𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒖 𝒊𝒕𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒊 𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒋𝒂,
𝑻𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒌 𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒌 𝒌𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒂,𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒌 𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒊 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒂.
𝑲𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒂-𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒏,
𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝒅𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒌,𝒅𝒊 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒉𝒊𝒓—𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒏.
"𝑲𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒉𝒂𝒌 𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒂 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒖𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏,𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒏 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒉𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒉 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒎𝒖 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒖𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒌 𝒊𝒕𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒂."

A Reflection on Time
By: Dawud Ramadan

Overdue, past the deadline,
Awaiting is the grave, a forever lasting bedtime.
Right on the red line.
"It's over," said the headlines.

Should've been more pious,
In the masjid for the prayer times.
But instead, in the dunya, lost in all the mess,
Looking for success in the wrong places to please my flesh.

And the distress of my soul only getting greater.
Change? Maybe later.
Forgetting that the Creator is the one who wills.
Tomorrow's never promised.

It could be your last deed, your last plea, if we're honest.
The only guarantee, none disagree, is death.
I confess.
God is one down to my last breath.

Under the sun blaze, stressin'.
The day of reckoning has come for my confession.
With no possessions, no wealth that could save me.
My deeds on the scale, the chances that he gave me.

It's the only thing I can think of.
But I'm the one to blame.
Feeling so ashamed of flames, I'm on the brink of.
I hope that my intentions were recorded.

Some actions went distorted, I know,
But my good heart reported.
Say a prayer for me.
It's all I've got for His mercy.

The only thing I'm hungry for and thirsty.
My time is up, my mouth sealed.
My hands, feet speak and reveal.
It gets real, with no way to conceal or appeal.

بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ

grief does not become art just because it sounds pretty at midnight.
It is still grief.
heavy, humiliating unshareable.

Just like driving, keep your eyes on the road ahead. Check your mirrors to stay aware of what’s around you, and look back only when you need to... only briefly.

The past is worth noticing, the present is yours to own, and the road ahead is where you’re going.

Fresh wounds
It’s a flesh wound, a fresh wound
From the fire to the frying pan
No way to know, true intentions don’t always show

Thought this time would be different
Silly me
Willy nilly me

Don’t be too forward
Smile
Not that much

So tell me something about yourself

“I am consumed by darkness and light in an eternal internal fight, black crows take flight, from my crown, bearing down, no smile or frown, pure rage - don’t engage, run fast, run now, don’t ask me how. I just know, it’s all just for show, not one genuine bone in the whole body, is it enough? Do I need to bare more? Tell you it all? What if I fall?”

No, not that.

Something else, keep it light, bright and clear!

I swear the end is near

Why so glum?
Can I call you hun? Just let me see you quick. Just one pic!

I swear these people give me “the ick”

Skin deep
No depth, no content, just contentment and resentment

So generic
I want esoteric
Atmospheric

I want to FEEL something
I want to YEARN

Why don’t I learn?

I’m comfortable in my own skin
But I’ll gladly peel it off for you

Like layers of an onion
Revealing my inner most
Serve my vulnerability and childlike innocence up like Sunday roast

No, I don’t want to go for coffee
I don’t want to act like I’m normal
Like I’m not a few fries short of a happy meal

Did you get the reference? Not likely

I’m awkward, like Bambi on ice, a deer caught in headlights, frozen in fear

Why on earth would you want to do that, why would you consider someone like me

But still

Like moths to a flame, like some kind of self destructive game

I swear, it always ends in flames
Burning bridges
Mutual annihilation

I give my all
Could you carry that?

The weight of my world on your broad shoulders?

I’ll drown you in my tears
Let’s wait a few years

A lifetime might be better

Who are we trying to fool
This ain’t school

This is life
I’m trying to be someone’s WIFE!

And for what?
A pat on the head?
Bread?
A house with a fence and a dimly lit shed?

No

I want real
I want to heal
To feel
Just one more time
That someone is truly mine
Maybe then my inner sun will shine

My muse
My muse is not a person
Nor a beautiful sight
No my muse is more like pure fright
Like fight or flight
My muse is my anxiety slowly eating me alive
My muse is being outside the hive
It’s the grey hours before dawn where nothing is real and the shadows rule time
My muse is no one else’s
My muse is mine
It’s the beauty of the rain drops on a dead rabbit by the roadside
It’s the bizarre in life that people try to hide
It’s being afraid in your own home and mind
It’s that last piece of the puzzle that you just can’t find
My muse is the darkness slowly creeping in
Seeping through the cracks when life’s about to begin
It’s black tar on feathered wings
It’s the hollow and empty one as she sings
It’s broken bones and sticks and stones
It’s everything in between hatred and rage
It’s tears as we age
My muse is special and I hold her so dear
If you sit real quiet you’ll hear her creep near
My muse is shattered mirrors and broken glass
Heavy breath and heavy foot on the gass
Sometimes she’s a whisper, sometimes she’s a roar
My muse is always hungry
She always wants more
Slowly but surely she will end my life
My muse is a mother
My muse is a wife

Maybe I wasn’t asking for too much. Maybe I was simply asking the wrong person for the right kind of love.