A conversation

“I feel like nothing, I meant nothing.”

“You are everything, but to someone else.”

-S.Alaa

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A gust of wind

I look down at the space between my fingers only to find them lonesome without yours.

Glancing left and right only to not find you on either side, just my own solitary shadow. And that is when I realised, you are nothing but an empty breeze. An entity and nonentity, that fulfils no purpose but to gently brush aside the hair of passers-by to whisper sweet meaningless words and empty promises. A gust of tremendously strong wind to make us feel everything on the surface of our skin, but thats all it is, the surface. There is no substance, no depth to your words as they aren’t followed through by your actions.

But I am not a gust of wind nor am I a nonentity. I am a thunderstorm, adamant to overthrow Zeus from the heavens, if it would allow me to fill the space between your fingers. Giving rise to tornadoes that would leave behind a wake of destruction. A wake of destruction I’d use as pathway to get to your side, to ensure your shadow was not left companionless, like you left mine. For you see my love, my actions will evoke tsunamis within your soul and fill your veins with streams of adoration. My honest and meaningful words have created an ocean of devotion to you, with each wave of affection that crashes against your ribcage, it erodes the surface of your ribs to reveal the warmth and fondness that I have filled your bones with.

And just like the wind, your presence is momentary. Momentary, just like your infatuation and commitment.

I am a storm and you are a gust of wind.

-S.Alaa

Our secret garden

Watering you with love from head to toe, washing off every ounce of your woe. I have cleaned the cob webs that nestled between your ribs and hung honey suckle vines instead. We have not sewn parts of our hearts into one another to replace the pieces we carelessly gave away to old lovers. Instead we built a beautiful white fenced bridge from my heart to yours, with a glistening stream of love that flows under this bridge, from the chambers and valves of my heart to yours.

Everyday I have tread carefully over the bridge to grow roses of luscious shades of red and pink within your lungs. Now I see your lungs are filled with life and I listen to the echoes of melodious laughter that depict every flourished colour. No more weeds of doubt entwined and entangled amongst the wiring of your brain, instead  I have grown daffodils to fill you up with encouragement and hope. Within your scars I have grown clusters of lavender to represent purity and devotion. The purity of my intentions and love for you, my devotion to you.

I have grown a garden within my you, as you have done for me. My lungs are bursting with magnolia. You gently place beautiful water lilies in all the streams that spring from my eyes, to remind me of  the love you have for me and the beauty you see within me. You have caressed me with endless encouragement and hope, I feel it trickle from the tips of your fingers onto each strand of hair, you’re growing blue bells from my head. Every kiss and every touch, an orchid grows, you have gently pulled out every dead rose within me, every shattered piece of this glass heart and has grown within me a real heart. Nurtured me back to health. Drenched me in kindness, never put me through a drought of affection.

-S.Alaa

Three

Patience, consistency and commitment.

The three needed to achieve anything successfully.

Your patience has run dry, but I will remember all the days you had been patient with me.

We have reached the dreaded day where you no longer want to hold me nor kiss me, but I will remember each and every loving kiss you have planted on my skin.

-S.Alaa

Nostalgia

Nostalgia you are a seductive liar, you always make us remember things better than they were. You fill our ears with the sound of their laughter and indoctrinate our minds with their sweet words.

Nostalgia you are enticing, you leave us in awe of the way you make us forget that their laughter is ignited the pain they caused us, their sweet words meaningless and deceitful.

Nostalgia you are a seductive liar. – S. Alaa

A Garden

Honey suckles entwined within this rib cage of mine.
Love from these veins nourish their vines.
A tongue drenched in kindness, words drip off tasting sweet.
Rose buds blossom along these blemished cheeks.
The laughter of children echo in my ears.
I haven’t felt at peace like this in years. – S.Alaa

Steps

Look down at the space between you and I,
Look down at the hundreds of footprints made by other’s who have left my side.
Look at the shattered shards of glass on the floor,
Look carefully at how each piece puzzles into the glass heart I once had before.
You think I am affected by what your steps will do?
I will politely open and close the door for you. – S . Alaa

Recovery

Nostalgia is seldom cradled within these arms. Torment by bittersweet memories of the past have ceased. Scars of where I had bled love for the undeserving one are scattered across my body like landmarks. Landmarks made beautiful from the love others have poured generously back into me. I have healed with only the ache ignited by laughter in my chest, a particular blissful ache I have missed.

These lungs no longer collapse on themselves to expel a howl for an overvalued presence that offers nothing but inadequate love and bargained affection.

I have fallen in love again, fallen in love with life. Fallen in love with the opportunities it is offering me in generous handfuls that I was previously too oblivious to appreciate. An antidote of patience and hope to the resentful poison that had once thrived inside of me. It is over, this self-battling war is done. I am free. – S. Alaa