Tears pour down my face like Autumn rain, my heart bleeds profusely from the wounds you inflicted within me.
Distraught, thoughts of all the other women that climbed ontop of you spin through my mind like a carousel. All the women who were inbetween the arms I called a home, all the women underneath the body I called a lover.
You scold at me to stop, but I can’t escape what could of been.
Your rebuke does not sting like your dishonesty, but I know I am not insane nor am I paranoid.
I am just sick, sick to death of being hopelessly in love with you.
And just like that I was thrown away and forgotten.
We all sit around the dinner table.
Some placid, some temperamental, some simply lost in thought.
Pessimism smirks at me, ”I told you so”, he spits arrogantly from across the table, peering over at the vulnerable.
Anxiety fidgets at the edge of her seat as she agrees, ”I knew it, he’s always right”. Slowly she slips away into a trance of destructive overthinking and self blame.
Anger’s eyes pierce through me, his silence dangerous.
I sink into my seat as sadness continues to gnaw away at me.
Hope gently places her warm, wrinkled hand on mine as she leans in beside me, ”You did your best beloved”.
Anger and Pessimism erupt into laughter, Anxiety frantically shakes her head ”No you didn’t!”.
Love stares blankly at the plate in front of her, reminiscing on the endless endearments she whispered and fond kisses she gifted generously. She turns to give me a faint smile to reassure me.
Depression quietly picks at her plate, slouched in her chair at the end of the table. Terrified at the sight of her I turn away.
That’s enough for tonight.
I blow out the candle and call it a night.
I opened my legs for disrespect to slither inbetween them.
I laid on a bed that wasn’t my own, to be spoken to like I have no home.
I gave away my most precious gift to give a man a sense of possession.
But all this did was teach me a lesson; I am a whore, I am a whore.
No matter what I wore or however much I swore to the almighty lord, he thinks I am nothing but a whore.
“Shams”, the arabic word for sun. (Pronounced Sham-ss)
The sun smiles down at me and I frown back. The air is fresh but it feels like my lungs have collapsed as nostalgia firmly wraps around my respiratory tract. I sit by the window and watch the trees sway in the breeze, reminiscing on days like these when it was just you and me.
I wonder if you’re smiling under the sun, the sound of your sweet laughter filling the air. I wonder if you’re squinting at the light, blissful without a care. I sit by the window and watch the trees sway in the breeze, wondering if you miss me on days like these.
My body aches and my bones feel brittle.
My limbs feel weak and my face has shrivelled.
But it was worth every sleepless night to watch you sleep throughout the night.
If you cage a bird that does not belong to you or does not want to stay, even in a locked cage it will find a way to fly away.
If you hold on to someone that is not meant to be yours or does not want to stay, eventually you will have to part ways.
What is meant to be yours will always find its way back to you, no obstacle can prevent a blessing that is meant to stay.
I miss the smell of your cigarette stained finger tips, the way the scent would linger under my nose as you stroked my lip.
I crave your nicotine drenched kiss, I need my fix.
I place a cigarette inbetween my lips, but it doesn’t have the same kick, nicotine tastes better when it’s off your lips.
I never love, to be loved.
I love because I love to love.
However, the tragedy strikes when I am told I am loved, because then I expect to always be loved. – S.Alaa
People love the idea of me, they love the idea of having someone as kind and sweet as me, but they don’t really love me. They don’t love all of me, only the good and not the bad. They only want me during the best of times never during the worst.
They choose me or keep me around because I am the better choice. But I want to be chosen because they feel no one can compare to me.I want to be the only choice. I want to be chosen because they want to wake up by my side everyday, they want to deal with my bad habits no one elses, they would rather fight with me than live in peace without me. They don’t choose me because of how they feel for me, they choose me because of how I make them feel.
You see, when someone wants you for the way they feel for you, even when you’re not at your best or not treating them in the best possible manner they still want you. They don’t look at you and think of the good and make a decision based upon that, they think of your bad and despite that want to be with you.
When someone wants you for the way you make them feel based on the things you do, they don’t want you around when you’re not or havent been at your best. They are impatient and don’t see you worthy of their time and effort. Someone who truly loves you cannot stay away from you despite the circumstances good or bad. If people pick and choose when to love you or when they want you based on the circumstances, then they dont really love you.
I was never wanted because of the way you felt. I was only kept around for the way I made you feel. For the kind things I did, the love I filled you up with and the smile I’d constantly smear on your face.
You never loved me, just the idea of me. – S.Alaa
“If they truly loved you and wanted you, they wouldn’t say you deserve better and to go find it. They would become better and give that to you.” -S.Alaa