Poetry

The right love never needs to be forced." ❤️

_ Dear stranger,

It’s been months since I’ve written you probably longer.
I mistook you once in face that wore your disguise.I truly believed I had met you. In crowded rooms, in quiet corners
where the world went silent, in the way he laughed at the corny jokes I only made for you, or how he lingered too long as if it might be our last goodbye maybe I should’ve taken that as a sign. But each time the illusion unraveled, like a name on the tip of my tongue that never quite arrives. I wonder if you are still out there, moving through the same world,unaware of how often I’ve almost found you. Or maybe you’ve passed me already once, twice and I was the one wearing the disguise. Until then, I’ll keep writing into the silence, folding these words into the space where you might someday be.

Yours,
almost._

I trust You
As my mothers who came before
Those who prayed and wept and worked
Knowing Your Help would soon come along
To lift them from the trenches

Those who understood
Tawakkul is an action word,
A commitment of courage that
Must defy passivity;
The sweat upon one’s own brow
A leverage to bring us closer to our inheritance

Make me strong, Ya Qawiyy!
As the shoulders
That I and my ancestors stand upon
Staring Truth in the eye,
Unflinching in the sight of injustice

I am molded
With the flesh, blood, and spirit
Of my elders

I am Yours,
Ansari

M. Ansari
2026

A real women Is Not Interested In Your Money
Or Statues,
What She Wants You Is…
Love-
Time-
Loyalty-
And commitment-
🌹

Your face feature
Something weird driving me to look at your face
A look that makes me familiar with that nose line.

Familiar with the lines that your smile draws on your face when you smile at me
Familiar with every tiny hair that makes your eyebrow, and the lashes that make you look like an angel.
Familiar with your beard that makes you look masculine enough to get my attention.
Familiar with your skin tone that could make a human being high with your brownness.
Your facial features are unique
And it has a unique effect on my eyes
That sense sneaks into my stomach whenever I acknowledge that you exist.

Keep existing beautifully and bless my eyes with it.

The Phoenix Complex

She has always lived
just beyond my reach
close enough to keep me hoping,
far enough to make hope feel foolish.

I have loved her
with the quiet devotion
reserved for impossible things.

She never looked back.

Never promised that if I became
a little wiser, a little gentler,
a little more worthy,
she might finally love me back.

Still, I kept offering her
pieces of myself,
one more sacrifice,
one more compromise,
another name
I used to answer to.

She belonged to the horizon,
always waiting
on the other side
of almost.

She borrowed
the moon’s indifference,
beautiful enough to guide me,
distant enough to deny me.

Every time I thought
I had reached her,
the horizon simply learned
how to retreat.

So I learned
to romanticize the fire.
I trusted every blister
more than every blessing.

If it hurt, it had to be changing me.
If I burned, I told myself
I must be becoming.

When the smoke settled,
I searched the ashes for proof.
Proof that I was closer,
proof that she might
finally turn around.

She never did.

Not because she was cruel.
Not because she was indifferent.
But because she had never
been looking back.

She was always
walking toward tomorrow,
and I mistook the distance
for rejection.

Perhaps that is
the Phoenix Complex.
the quiet belief that every fire
must mean a resurrection.

When all along,
I was only a moth,
returning to the same flame.

Moments of lifetimes stories,
Why spend it on a difficult direction.
Countless words must have stuck in storms.
Your words of confidence seem like poison now.
It was necessary that we made a plethora of wishes, but it was necessary to release them too.
It was important to let the final ember fade into thin air.
But why did I make a house out of those flames?

𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅.
𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.
𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆,
𝑨 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.
𝑰 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕,
𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒋𝒂𝒓.
𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕,
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓.
𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆
𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆.
𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆;
𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒐, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆.
𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏
𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆
𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒊𝒇 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒏
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆?
𝒀𝒆𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆
𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆.💔🥀

Dear future wife, my moon, my beloved soulmate….. 🤍

Winds listen to me
And carry my voice as far as there are ears to hear
Clouds lift my spirit to the open doors of heaven
Eleven times the earth has offered a ring to her beloved
Since the day I reached this lonely place

Now I am Misery's King
These rocks became my palace
I am king without one subject
Hallucination is my faithful servant
When I feel sad I am dancing with my thoughts
I tried to lock inside me
Something young, Something vivid
But in vain... 💔

-Chaostar - Misery's king