The Inbetween

Your current is dangerous and when it is still, it is waiting to be provoked. I do not know whether to stay on the shore and wait till your currents have calmed to sail again or locate a new ocean to sail. I am in the in between.

I am unsure whether in time you will welcome me back to join you or churn up a storm to keep me out. Perplexed, I sit at the edge of the shore. Yet, I feel like I am anchored to the bottom of the sea bed, chained around my ankles, floating aimlessly just below the surface of the sea. I cannot sink to the bottom nor am I able to float to the top. Now do you understand? I am in the in between.

It feels like I am staring at the face of a clock, gnawing as the minute hand goes back and forth between two dials, waiting for it to make one revolution. And I think to myself, can it be fixed or is it time to get a new clock? I am in the in between.

It feels as though I am climbing a mountain, oxygen concentrations are depleting, I am exhausted and weak. But I have almost made it to the top, shall I take this as a victory in itself or climb cautiously and tactically to the top? I am in the in between.

Do I hold on and wait or let go? There is nothing more torturous than false hope.

I am in the in between. – S.Alaa

The lighthouse

I am the lighthouse that has guided you through your darkest nights.

At times my light may have been dimmer than other nights, but I have always been alight.

Like other ships, you may think you can take the tides without me but one day you will miss my light.

When sharp coast rocks graze against you and the angry ocean tides crash against you, you will look for my light in the chaos of the night.

Like other ships, you may sail off searching for a better light, but one day you will come back in search of my light.

I am the lighthouse that has always kept you safe at night.

One day my love, you will miss my light. – S. Alaa

Heaven & Hell

Heaven.

When you are good to me, it feels like heaven. I am cradled within your arms and sheltered from harm by your angelic wings. You tuck me into the soft clouds and watch over me as I nestle into a blissful sleep. Playing the strings of my heart as softly as you play the harp, my angel.

Hell.

When it is bad, it is the epitome of hell. Your temper ruptures like a volcano and your destructive words spew out, burning me alive. You ruthlessly drag whatever is left of me down to the earths scorching core, ensuring no ounce of my dignity and self worth is left. After all, the devil was once an angel too.