“There I am then back in the saddle, in my numbed heart a prick of misgiving, like one dying of cancer obliged to consult his dentist.”

I'm a slave to my whims

Never lasted a verse when my peace of mind
Was the price to pay
In the few years into my shock of an adulthood
This heart of mine
Grew so spoiled that I spare him the toil
Of picking the best of the worst
I drift at ease through the changing gust
It's been delightful
Detached my anchors of commitment
Forgot my aim
Lightness was both morbid
And liberating
My nickname was changed with time
From Warrior to Capricious
All these countless enterprises to fill
My expanding emptiness made me Jack of all trades
A lover of all shades, only pushed towards the sunlight
Holding on tight made my palms
So numb
That I let go of the precious
Without realizing

I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night
When I've died in a dream

Laboring myself with thought
To pass on the hours until dawn
So demons wouldn't invade my brain

Why did The Lord send us down here ?

Clad with a consciousness
Weakened by humanness
Our first prize and yet our greatest vice

To feel, could be the heaviest burden
Isn't it ?
But to live like death was an utter lie
Or idle through the days as we lie without a care
Just to die in vain after so many years
Of being docked at the bay
Perhaps were, in the end
Only one and the same.

"Then I went back into the house and wrote, it is midnight.
The rain is beating on the windows.
It was not midnight.
It was not raining."

Komerobi

He said after a moment of comfortable silence
"I got a question.
It's a bit too forward but I need to know :
Would you

Would you ever be with someone younger in age?"

I took my time
Reading between the lines

I said, "How young are we talking?"

He said, "Does it matter ?"
"In a decade, it won't"
He said, sometimes people think they are born
Into the wrong generation
So they age so fast to catch up with the years they have missed
And it's so unfair
That their love never waits on
Sometimes, never remembers
The promise they made in another time
To find each other again

"That sounds familiar.", I said

"It's because we read the same books."

"We did."

"So, what do you think ?"

What do I think ?

I think I did remember, a while ago
When I thought I was going to die
I remembered how his lips stuck out when he murmured
To himself
His rhythmic way of breathing out his words
His lean limbs, awkwardly long
And his inordinate perms
His eloquent gaze behind his thick frames

But I
I failed to remember the details of his face

I look for him
Among strangers when I walk down the street
And I tragically
Tragically

Can't remember if I loved him

Truth is, I never loved before

In this time

To remember how it would feel

And I never wrote a love poem that was true to my heart
At the time
Made it a point to cross them all when I'm done bleeding
Toss away the crumbled pages
When I, in a moment of frenzy, have jetted all down
Lines he spoke to me on long evenings
Lines he probably thought to himself at the borders of slumber
Never believed they would cross through time and space
To reach me

Your whispers live inside my head

They drive me insane
Out to the streets without an aim
Out screaming at the face of the darkness
Atop the highest dunes ,facing the planes of nought
Driving past my destination on deserted roads
Engraving into my iris the colors of the tiles
In foreign allies
Breathing in some foreign sighs, holding them longer
So I could taste the smoke exhaled from a foreign pair
Of lungs, twisting in a foreign kind of despair
Over a foreign breed of cares, in some foreign land

It was all to find you and, alas! it was all

In vain

These verses you shot into my veins
Spell out as I cut myself ,when it rains
In November
These morsels of words and acrid metaphors
That you passed on to my throat, while bidding my lips farewell
I disgorge while twisting in pain
Trying to find a clue or two in the mess I mean to wipe
They were timeless letters from you to I
And I try to write back, heaps and heaps of pages that I scribbled in reply
In gratitude for the chance
In regret for the wasted years
In fear of forgetting
In agony of loss
In delight of short lived infatuations
Brimming with the idea of you
Perfumed by the unfounded memory of you

And I never loved you
Despite all, that part was true 


They say an afflicted heart never lets one
Fall asleep at night
The butterflies flutter wild in their guts
And a few might escape with the sighs they let 
In the presence of their beau
They say it makes one wander off too far
On crisp afternoons
Their cup of coffee gets cold, the wind flips some pages
Past the one with the word that brought a lover's apparition
Into their thoughts

Where was I going with this ...


These morsel of words and acrid metaphors

Are tender apologies that would never reach

Through
Because in my wanderings, I've found myself
At last
Became whole and full of love
My time started moving
Forward in age, backward in spirits
And I could never make sense of why

Would one seek the source of all maladies
To heal a trifling sore

I never loved before

And I said "No", for all the wrong reasons
That was my longest letter to you, I thought

He said, "Good,
That's good, because love is an invention"
I said "how so?", a bit disheartened
He said, "Loneliness
Is so incomprehensible to us
That we look for an exegesis
Inscribed on someone else's palms
We stumble upon a stranger with matching inscriptions
We link our hands to unlock the script

And we think we have found what we lost at birth."

I paused at length
My cup of tea grew cold
Wind blew hard through some open window
And the pages flipped too fast
I couldn't recall the word
That brought your apparition into my thoughts
But I think I broke a precious vase
While I spaced out, trying to recognize your face

In another stranger.

Die Toten Seleen

I cry easily
Of late
Throw tantrums for matters
I used to mock as I nudged them beneath a rug
Tripped on the hump the other day
It's grown this big while I wasn't looking
I cry when I can't point a finger
At the origin of the pain
I burst into fits of anger
When I fail to explain
Why it hurts when my limbs are sound
They have a mean odor for such a clean existence
These fumes of despair
A bottle left half open
They grows less in volume as they poisons the air
Because it ain't fair to suffer alone

"Look at me", I implore

As I bare my flesh to you
Words betray my will
The insufferable rogues
I am released from the spell
To my great dismay

"LOOK AT ME."

I yell

I endured so bravely
And it's my time to crumble
Fall and rubble
And you don't seem to understand
That a drop of rain can bring down a mountain
One's spine grows weary
When enough time has passed
Their back won't handle the lightest
Of sacks
The candles in their eyes die quietly
Their lungs grow sick of
Holding in their sighs
And their skin
Starts to crack
It won't contain the swelling waves
The twitches in their nerves
The witches laughing in dark corners
On moonless nights
And their bodies grow so thin
Fighting all these battles within
Betrayed by beliefs
Burdened by brothers of kin
In abundance of love
In want of solicitude
Both in fear and in craving
Of eternal solitude
Dropped their blade by the tenth blow
Because they knew in the marrows of their decaying bones

That they
Could never win.

Torn Pages, Scratched Lines

I don't remember when I wrote this, it sounds old, and sincere.
And untrue to my current state of mind, but it deserves to see the light nonetheless.


1//

You have been bitter all your life
Over the time you have lost
On precious people
And higher callings
Your youth, your zeal
Your vigor and your appeal
All were in vain, for you never made it
To happiness
This bitterness started to seep into my skin
It took quarters deep within my cells
I am mirroring you
When we are close, you could feel it
When I pour my heart and my voice breaks
Into many pieces and my eyes glisten
And I say all the truth in its most agonizing rigor
It terrifies you, to your bones
Indeed, more than I'm terrified of becoming your shadow
You are afraid of my living the life you never got to live.



2//


Tonight you crossed my mind
It was a gay party, and I stopped laughing
To remember you properly
It's strange, for I haven't thought of you
For months past
But I like to believe it's because
You were thinking of me at that moment
Did you know, I loved you since the very first encounter
Perhaps
One never trusts their heart when time is the question
I loved you still, when I came to know
That you thought of it as a game
Because I looked like a puzzle
I loved you even when I started to notice your car
Lurking outside, and following me around
When I caught winds of your prying
On my affairs

I loved you still

When you pretended that I
Was a ghost, when I waved hi
And when I saw you stealing glances
From the corner of your eye
I loved you all this while until
I knew how much it tortured you
To silence your heart
It was genuine after all
And you had to suppress a feeling this strong
Endure this long
Yet still chose your pride
Over a shot at happiness

You deserve to suffer.



3//

You said you'd never introduce us
I took it as a joke, and laughed it off
You knew as I knew that it wasn't as such
That was your habit, mixing petty with
The sugar in the coffee you serve
I don't have it anymore because
When I used to sulk and weep I
Had to pretend that I can't see
How your eyes twinkled
For years I thought it was comfort
At finding company in this coldness of scourge
But you liked to see someone's weaknesses
Lain on the tray
It must've gave you comfort

I try too hard, don't I ?

I follow the book, and check to see
If my services were up to satisfaction 
I try too hard, and it makes folks like you comfortable
"She ain't going no where
She needs this"
You think it's out of naivety
When it's just because I never tried
At all
When they were around
And I can't live with the burden of my Should'ves
Clinging to my shoulders
For the rest of my life
It wasn't so bad, when I
Had a reason to run away
For once.



4//

It's not I, it's you.
All you.



5//

I miss you badly.



6//

That was a lie
I've already forgotten
What I walked away from
The moment I turned my back on you
When one is the deserter,
It makes perfect sense
Because they got all the reasons listed
Reasons not to look back at all
But I miss badly the person I was
When I was around you
Funny
Loud
Outspoken
Adventurer
Beautiful
Innocent
That was a lie
I miss how things were
When you were around
All was in order
Having someone to be lonely with
On a Thursday night
Lay on the sand, exhausted of our
Wonted togetherness
A queer playlist shuffling
Silence for hours at length
Was comfortable for a change
I miss the way you used to talk nonstop
When I was in the mood to listen
Only stopped to take a breath,
As if you only got one chance to say it all
Before reclining to your usual moroseness
You were a major asshole when it was my turn
To act like a child
That part I don't miss

That was a lie
All of it

I miss you badly.



7//

I've never felt so alive
Until I started to live
Like I'm going to die
Before my next breath
Liberating
I'm so afraid of fading away
That I'm making all the preparations
So folks wouldn't miss me, as bad
When I'm gone.



8//

When autumn arrives
The Ginkgo tree sheds its fans
For the wind to carry away
She will never get there to see
If her kids made it safely
Her bare trunk still abides
During long summers
It harbors a few nests, and
Sustains a broken swing
Unarmored
Heavy
Full of holes
Lonely
Still stands undefeated
She had nothing to lose
And yet has lost everything
She's not happy, but greatly satisfied
She's not sad, she is just weary
I am the Ginkgo.
The Ginkgo is I.

I'll omit the chain of events that led to this moment :

I ran out into the night

Barefoot
It was dark and no other soul was to be found
In that calm desert

Sand was cold between my toes
I could only see ahead as far 

As my headlights could illuminate

She looked helpless, all her tires stuck 

Between heaps of soft mush

Smoke was oozing out

The city lights were glowing in the distance

Flickering candles on a flat cake

"This was a bad idea"

I thought

But I was laughing to myself like a madman

I ran out into the night

And with every step my feet grew heavier

Sinking in a swamp

The wind blew colder on my dry cheeks

I turned around

In vain, I searched for the way I came from

Tracks disappeared, crossed each other teasingly

My footprints faded
Hills multiplied, I could swear there were
A few moons even

And my engine whined from the distance
An old beast, licking its wounds
And all directions felt the same

Where I came from
And where I'm going
Quietness reigned
Even my car disappeared
And I, alone, giggled
In the darkness
"How about that for a pickle?"
"You have an odd sense of humor"

"It's the time to freak out now, 

Isn't it, Atticus ?"

"Indeed it is"

"Then why am I not despairing ?"

"It's just too familiar"

"Almost comical, eh?"

"But what if you die here ?"
"I won't"
"I know, but what if you die here tonight
And no one knew?"
"Knew what ?"
"How this feels, right now?"

Darkness ahead
Darkness behind
Darkness above
Darkness beyond
Darkness within
Darkness without
Darkness was so kind after all
And for the first time
I was living a metaphor
In reality

I ran out into the night
Barefoot, roaring with laughter
I was lost
I was cold
I was alone
I was exhausted, terribly so
I was scared

But I never felt more alive
In my entire life.

La Donna è Mobile

"This is splendid, 
But this is a self portrayal, my dear
That is to say, you are rightly wrong
Beautifully so
I've watched you for long
Your strokes betray a meticulous nature
Too faithful to the system
You cuff your imagination
Take into consideration no ingenious feelings
Angles too small
Compositions too light
Protrusions too bright
You try not to break the rules
And hence killing the soul of the technique
Holding your tools upright
You erase and re write, step back
Grimacing
And then again, attack your plain
Furiously
Like a child with no restrains
Never know when to stop
Not even when you could see it so clearly
That you are ruining what could've been
A master piece
By trying too hard
To make it perfect

Your work is unique in that regard

It's so like you
Layers of mistakes, undiscovered
Erratic flaws, hiding in the shadows
But you are missing the point
It's not about what you see
It's about what you want it to look like
And you fail to realize that
The sole idea of perfection
After all, in your eyes
Is your own."

Lonesome and satirical like a Gogol book.

Fragile and disregarded like a Fitzgerald poem.

Repulsive and pitiful like a festering wound.

Proud and irritable like a Dostoyevsky heroine.

Bare yet brimming with joy like a Blues song.

Tick Tock

Being impatient was never a vice,
As you elegantly described it
Its obvious symptoms, they don't betray a malady
An excess of loving never traps a person
That was the point all along
And a quickness at running
Becomes of help when it's to keep safe
What hasn't broken yet
Never heeding advice, and giving liberty
To the corporal expressions of my limbs
Unleashing the hounds of my speech
At leisure
Indulgence in my passing caprices
A ridiculous obsession with mending
What could never be whole
Then taking my time at recess
Letting the ship go under
Taking a deep breath and delving
Into turmoil
Head first

Cutting short all the cords of my ticking bombs
Beautiful explosions of reason

I wonder,if forgetting is the true salvation out of this labyrinth
Of faces, and names
Of convictions, and feelings
If forgiving is our sole deliverance, after all
People never really change
It takes years to make them do
Years one doesn't have
You would be cruel to think
That what I am is primitive
For what I've become is a rebound

We are
Running out of time, aren't we ?

Ever since inception.

But, God, what would I have done with myself
If it wasn't for poetry ?
If these hands couldn't manifest
My mute soul
And bleed what refuses
To untangle
From the tip of my tongue
Where could I have turned
With all these floods
Unstoppable rains
Trying to break through the lids
Sealed tight on my eyes
Through the barricades
Of fires and fuming hurricanes
Tearing apart to shreds
What's left of my heart
It's the greatest boon
Aside from being
To be able to weep at my own bareness of feels
To sigh with the tenderness
And instant blush of a lover pining for their beloved
As I read what my hands
Have left for time to grasp
Touch these strokes,
Almost pulsing with vigor and convulsing pain
The dying will of my flat brush.

To Kateryna

If water was a human 

May the lord preserve the souls
That exhaust themselves to calm one's rage
Like water quells the rising flames
Before it gladly perishes into smoke
May the lord protect, for the sake
Of all that struggles to stay soft
In this dark age
Those that walk along the border of existence
Never faltering
Never altering
The ones resigned into mere hardness of visage
Abiding, solemnly
Against the strains of doubt
Bulging inside their cracks and veins
May He eternally bless
The innocent few still willing to harness
What's left of beauty 
Hidden in the hearts of strangers.

-Rain

Pizzicato

1//
"Make haste to call."

I got a short text while out
Three lines of information
Delivered curtly
And my stomach stirred
It was there and then that I learnt
That it's better to be out of reach ,sometimes
And that grieving could be differed 
Until it sinks in

I went back and finished my slice of Pizza

Waited three days to remember

What difference does it make ?

If I wept a year later
They are far beyond rebuke, beneath the soil
Eternally asleep
Whether I howl, they wouldn't know
Bang my head against a wall, or break in silence

Does it revive the dead
Does it unwind the time
Does it comfort the living
Or stop the worms
From feasting on their flesh?

2//

I'm pounded shreds of glass, too small to cut
Too jagged to reflect
Harmlessly I try to exist
White of color, since I couldn't be
Invisible
Caressed and toted by breeze
But folks still circle me around
To avoid hurts they don't need
Or tip toe when they have to cross my path
Corrupting my order
On their way
Out.


3//

These repeated lines walk on their own by now
Assemble at the tip of my tongue

"Al Baraka fekom"
"A7san Allah 3azakom"
"IsA akher Al a7zan"
"Al Baqa2 lellah"
"Al dafen mtain?"
I always remember that Hadeeth
That says sudden death becomes frequent
At the end of times
And I muse at how people can get used to loss
So readily
Perhaps
We have been dead all along
Some of us merely
Stop breathing when
The time comes.



4//

I decided since a while
To remember them properly within these lines
I know that I defile poetry by my wretched ways
Like a sick habitual deprived of his means
Of appeasement
They say that ache impregnates the soul
With the most solemn of phrases
But it's too late to steer clear from the wall
I use the memory of dead souls to revive mine
I shiver as I recite these dissonant dirges in my head
Another dedication
Out of obligation, I know
But somewhere, along the line
A forced whine verily converges
To a river of anguish
It's a price to pay when one never cares
To say things out loud when they have the chance
Time stretches lazely while one is alive
These hearts pounding
These finger tips twitching with vigor
Eyes flaring
Cheeks red with youth
Time taking a nap
But words busy flipping through magazines
On the couch

One never counts their breaths until air becomes scarce.



5//

This is a dedication : 

Though my words are in utter disarray, like his front teeth
Expressions as weak as his presence
In a room full of people
Indecisive, as the shadow of a candle
Lighted on a winter night
Only kept burning by the warmth of affection
This is a celebration of someone's life
See, he always parted his lips in an undefined smile
When he listened
In the rare occasions on which he spoke
It was crude and unrefined
Been robbed of the precious
Of his time
Of her time
But he sounded like he found comfort
In having something to be robbed of
Perhaps it's because it made him lighter
These kinda souls are never vile
And they linger around

Their shadows linger around for a while.



6//

I saw you at the mall the other day
Stopped mid sentence, and forgot where I was going
It was your doppelganger
I knew it because you didn't look twice
So strange, perhaps it doesn't matter
For how long you have known a person
They always steal with a gouged piece of your abdomen
And tuck a memory deep in the hollow left behind
It stings
When one tries to get up in the morning
The festering flesh caves in
Like a sufferer biting on a stick
And with all its might, clings
To what's left of them
Perhaps it grows with time, inside your guts
The planted seed of a morbid notion
And it's been spreading like cancer
Of late

Could I possibly be
Seeking a meaning
In grief?

Rage, rage.
Not like a hurricane
Not like a volcanic eruption
Not like a cosmic explosion
Not like an avalanche
Not like a tsunami
Rage,
Like a human
Beautifully
No wreckage left behind, but within
And no toll to pay but from your own account.

One hears a lot that shattered glass could never be fixed
Not without visible scars, swollen veins
And a vulnerable despondency
Unable to carry the weight it used to handle
When it was whole
What is it, then, that draws even closer, two hearts severed
By time
And ruction
When they find each other again in the gust of living
Is the fear of falling apart the best remedy for the cracks in a construction ?
When the ridge in between is deemed a vile enemy
And the sides of a crack pine with remorse and desire
A strange, strange business, human affection is.

"A great egoist. Her egoism and her vanity are colossal. She demands everything of other people, all the perfections, and does not pardon the slightest imperfection in the light of other qualities that one may possess. 

I still love her, but I do not want to love her any more.

She doesn't deserve this love."

Kaskazi

I walked towards my car
It was a long day
Fuming with disappointments
And stolen wishes
My patched arm was aching
And the drum in my chest sounded too loud
It's a common side effect, I was told
I reached for the handle
Someone called out my name from afar

"RAWAN!"

I turned, scared to my bones
It's never a good thing to be called out to
On a Thursday night
By a panting creature
With murky features
"Finally !", they steamed
The face manifested from the darkness, familiar
To my disappointment
"I saw your car around,
And waited for you to come down
Your habits never change, I see
Been following you around
You always managed to evade me
I needed to ask you

What's going on ?



You wouldn't talk to me."



What's going on, you say



I was all the while petrified
Trying to count how many days it's been
Since we last talked
What's going on ,indeed ?

I said I was sorry, for the trouble
That I was in a hurry and this could be put on hold

Another habit that never changed
I apologize, before I bolt
Ours is a peculiar breed, see
I don't remember the reason for my aversion
Only a faint taste of bitterness on my slacking tongue
Bits of dissolved pride
You are out of breath, like always
And too blunt and impatient when it comes to your ends
That's what I liked about you
And that's what I loath about you

What's going on is that i realized during a meal
That I try just too hard
To revive my wriggling bonds
That I think I'm justified to abscond
When all is said and done
Extracted from one's side
My existence, a benevolent tumor
When I decide to leave
Pack my suits of care and good humor
And turn my back to you
I pace calmly, and I carry no rags of guilt
You find it strange because you don't know
How easy it is to let go
When you've always been this light
What's going on is that
All my life, I never tied a string
Only got entangled to the crowns of trees
While I floated
Got my heart bloated by air
Trying to get heavier
They only kept me down for the length
Of a spring, these extended twigs
And all my life, I found it much easier

To run away from the wave
As it came

Have it break my spine 
Than burn my lungs
Being a martyr was never my kink
What's going on is that not for once have I been chased after 
When I ran away
And this is a dire strait
Blood seemed to burst in opposite directions through my veins
And the neurons in my brain were stopped frozen
Too occupied to craft an excuse
Waiting for me to speak, your lips pursed

I thought you didn't care

You could've called
You are making a scene
I was just tired of you
This is what I do
You didn't read the small print
It's not me, it's all you
It's all you
This experiment was too long
I'm too busy fighting this chaos of feels
Inside of me

To be fighting for someone else

And would you understand?

That it's never a single crack in a keel
What sinks the ship
That I never asked you to change
Because I wouldn't change for you
And you would've loathed me because I
Tried to force you into a mold
A fancy block print on my portfolio
Your countenance darkened like a burnt bulb
When I turned to leave
"There she goes again."
I bid you goodbyes with promises to explain
And rushed back home
To pack my case
At daybreak, like I always do
I ran away
This time to a place where you can't find me.

Cereals at 1:36 am

Cluttered is the mind
A deserted shed at the edge of nowhere
Marauded by a rover, driven to a frenzy
By the claws of hunger
Of late I ponder for long
On how much I have changed
On how much you have changed me
In my restlessness it seems that I
Lost the grip on definitions
Couldn't put a name on this vehemence of sorts
And my sorts are countless, I'm never out
This passion for living, the will to proceed
Or the yearning to die while trying to live
This wild affection for the ones I could touch
And the ones whose faces separation has mushed
This disavowal of possessions and
The hastiness to cede
I feel like smoke
A cloud of smoke with a thick shadow
What I darted away from
Is a twilight
What chases after me
Is the echo of my steps
What I walk towards
Is your back, swallowed
By the darkness

Yet calm, calm is the heart

An astral graveyard of stillness
My night dome pales a bit
As the moon pays his respects
To the stars that has fallen
By my feet
I was four when I clasped the first one
In my small hands, was told that I could keep it
If I wanted
I did not understand then
I was twenty four when I found it again
Tucked between the pages of an old notebook
With faded lines
Buddy Guy said that love comes like a hurricane
You see
But I was born at the heart of one
Unending
He says that despite the uproar it still feels like rain
But I breathed in the smell of Petrichor when air
First pierced into my lungs, and I uttered
The cry of my first battle
Still pending
Perhaps it is why I wake in November
Presently prone to laughter at times of plight
Audacious scowls at the passing whiffs
 Of lies ,now that I've grown
And of late I wonder
Why I called him my moon and wrote him all these lines
When he was my total eclipse 

When he wouldn't have possible known how cold this grass feels
Beneath one's bare feet
Between one's toes as the verses flow into their veins
Does he frequent the few shores left on this earth
That no dishonest man has defiled yet
Just to let the virgin grains slide between his fingers
"What passes through is the brevity of your love"
"What clings unto my palm is my undying devotion"
Does he ever wander into Molloy's forest
And forgets to remember that he ought to leave
Think to himself while resting at night,when the city falls asleep
Quietness reigns ,and the ravens left behind

Start to weep near the break of dawn

How his mind beats like a drum, and his chest whispers
Verses and dirges, when it snaps out of stupor
Did he ever decide to walk further than the rest of the grubs
Just to reach the end of the leaf
Stop at the precipice of existence and stare into chaos
Where poetry is woven
Did he figure by now
More than the answers, the few immortal questions to adorn his grave stone
Does he think, when the hour strikes twelve at noon
Whether it is truly an affliction
That needs to be cured
This absence in presence
Detachment in connection
Belonging in seclusion
Chaos in naught
Tenderness in indifference
Walking along the border
Forever swinging in between
Oh, the horror
If his heart isn't as bold
No, my love,
He wasn't the one to keep
And this bowl
Is getting cold.

None Shall Sleep

He loaded his words into his tongue, and shot his bullets

I took them standing, more from shock than from bravery

Imagined that only happened to Niqabis at public beaches, you see

I think of making a scene, orating my right to board a train and walk around in a foreign land 

But I abstain, for I know what happens when you pour gas on fire while standing close

I could read it in his twitching lips

My Ochre skin seems to him like a dumpster of filth, an urban ogre, dressed in a cape

Would've stripped to a thread to let them see that I carried no belts

But what's the catch ? I am still a walking vice, in my nakedness

I look at him in admiration: the privileged do have the strongest pride in their nation

His flames burning so vehemently, when mine, for all my youth, never lasted a state of mind

It's the same everywhere, isn't it ?

We have been marching on, stamping stereotypes on each other's foreheads ,defining turfs

Good, evil, brown, pale, pious, libertine, straight, gay, man, woman, rich, poor, free, serf,

Somebody that mattered on this earth, nobody

You speak so profoundly of freedom and tolerance of diversity

When a human, that happens to be a black woman with a scarf on her head can't wander in a city

Without feeling the urge to justify herself

Without feeling the need to purge her visible stigma of an existence

Your rage, blooming like a wild chrysanthemum

I can't tell if it grew from the seed of emptiness, or the pain of loss

But you still have a place to call home, when I spent my life running away from one

And I am tired, my good sir

One changes scenes, and one changes faces but it's still the same , and I am tired

Of constantly having to alter my roots so I could bloom in stranger lands

Of having to morph my folds into shapes that no longer resemble me so I could receive a few drops of rain

I wasn't hurt because I'm not a miserable wreck with a gun and never been to a club

Not even because I think the essence of a woman's freedom is choosing to cover her navel and cleavage without offending a stranger

Not because you make it sound like I never scrub

You didn't care to ask for my name; didn't even dare sit next to me, so I could tell you why I mounted trains

Tell you all about what emptiness I fled, this chaos in a shell

My baggage of struggles that you threw out the window along with my ticket to exist

When you glanced at a piece of fabric I threw on my head

But old man, with more white on his brows than light in his eyes

I got one question for you : Which train do people take to reach at oblivion ?

Muscle Museum

I finally met him, yesternight
He came late, I waited for an hour
But he doesn't know that
Dressed in a white shirt, he seemed to glow
In this dim floodlight
He came late and out of breath
Made jokes about the heat
And the busy airport nearby interrupting his thoughts
"It's hot because of you, really."
My head fell backwards for a instant
Collecting my wit
Suave
I scooped to the edge of my seat
Occasionally clasping my hands
Not knowing what to do with them
When I'm not fumbling with my ring
I scooped to the edge of my seat, almost falling
Held my tongue and forgot where my phone was
Someone was calling
But I wouldn't miss a word
A blink
A gesture
A joke
A smile
His lines I took in along with my breath
His laughter
Exploded like a fountain, contagious
And I, self conscious of being in public
I kept soft and graceful to my best
The longer I watched his face while he went about
A magician in his natural place
The wilder them butterflies fluttered in my guts
ِAnd the drum in my chest, slowed its pace
Seemed to take longer
As it filled its ventricles

And I realized in that moment :

You could be infinite without expanding

You could soar in the air, while
Still on your chair
Time could stop, and you could be an immortal
For only two hours or so
And this isn't fair
I whispered to myself
"I love you this much.

And you don't know."


He went on
His eyes half closed
Making gestures with his hands
One of these people that you love watching
They sound like they own the world just by being alive
I said it a bit louder, though fast
When a plane went by
"I Love you."
He would interrupt his story to count
And we would laugh, I ,tearing a bit
Wishing more people flew away that night
When another one passed
He stopped short and sighed,
I strained my cords harder
So I'd let it all out
In that narrow window of chance
Took a deep breath, counted three pulses
Before I summoned my guts

"------OVE YOU."

But the last syllables hit his face
In the sudden quietness, stealthily ambushing
Like broken glass hits the ground

Silence turned to smoke
And lingered around

Seemed like my voice was for a moment
The only pulsing entity
In a quiet universe
Enchanting
He looked into the void, searching
For his words
His face flushed, strands glued to his brow
Chuckled gently
Then looked my way

"I love you too."
"Someone seriously needs to call the ATC here."



Dedicated to Y. Chrismallis

My muse, forever and always. 

"To act as if death did not exist, or to act thinking every minute of death, is perhaps the same thing."

La Boheme

I drove back home, after I've dropped you off
You apologized for the trouble, as usual
Said that you will make it up one distant day
When you get your own means
And I said it was a pleasure, as usual
With a smile
Seems that I don't smile often because
I spend them all on you

Hey, what would I do when you are gone ?

What you don't know is that my heart flutters
When we spend these moments together
What you don't know is that I get lost on purpose
Miss exists and take longer routes, with frequent signals
Suddenly crave tea on the other part of town
To buy us extra time
For our time is running out
What you don't know is that I knew all along
That these moments were counted
That they are gone for good, and we took them for granted
Mid conversation, I'd recall
That you were preparing me
For your withdrawal
Since we met
What you don't know, is that I've been brooding for months
After you told me you wanted to leave
Caught in a vortex :
To be happy for you
To be envious of you
To be unhappy without you
To be hopeful because there is still fire within you
To fall into despair
Because we won't talk like this
Anymore

What would I do when you are gone ?

In a while too short
You will be no longer
And I'll truly
Truly

Truly



Be alone

All these plans for the future
The careless laughter
Your words like almond
Smiles like flowing water
Will rise and mix with the evening sighs
In a while ,too short
The magic of small things that I've regarded so high
Would turn to umber
And I won't be making beautiful things
With you any longer
I wrote about you, you know
And these roses I've aligned unto my lines
Unsent
Undelivered
What would I do when they start to whither
Lose the color of their petals and the sprouts of their zeal
Long drives in the dark
When you don't care for the end
Have lost their appeal
The veins in my hands were frozen red
As I held unto my cone, with the largest scoop
A chilled snake was climbing up my spine
And my heart was quiet
The reel of our conversations was playing in my head
Windows smudged to blindness

My dull gaze fixed at the void

And numbness started to creep

Up the curls of my earlobes 

Painted by the sleepless lights
Of the yawning city

Montmartre seemed sad

And the Lilacs were dead.

Festival of Insignificance

Heaviness

You have always walked
Weighed down by the buckets of guilt
Pulling like retractors
You ought to care
Inquire more, report your affairs
Unmentionables spread on the balcony
Such a bother, having to remember someone
In the midst of your angst
And despair
You dial the numbers, thinking
How hard it is to acquire compassion
Nowadays 
One has to scavenge even deeper
For a tear or two
On the daily, you struggle to find the line
Between a truth and a pose
Divine the vices in your prose
To mold your expressions and adjust your tone
With the skill of an actor
Looking away from the face of your consciousness
Grimacing, about to choke on laughter

"What a lier !
You were sipping on coke though."

The few phrases of courtesy quickly exhausted
And you are forced to digress
You squeeze your brain to find the words
To fill in the silence
It truly has been a while
To know what to share
With an almost, almost stranger now
And their chill voice hits like a train
Strayed off tracks
"Thank you for calling, I have a lotta guests."

Relief

You have felt a load escape your lungs
They never needed your heart
In their distress
Nor had the time to miss your pity donations
Of obliged kindness
Your entire existence is but a spec of dust
Blown away by the wind of neglect

You could have carried on for the rest of your life

Thinking you were bold
For not caring enough
But truth to be told you never really mattered
Some truths are better off not known, though
She hung up the phone, with a dismissal, cold
And
It kinda stung, somewhere

Melancholy

Did it truly cleanse your heart from the blotch of shame
Or did it hurt to realize
That they struggled to recognize
Your voice and name
That you mattered not much
Cold, cold times, the ones we live in
We find it hard to shed tears
We are too scared to vent our spleens
We are too conscious to let them hear
Our trembling voices
And we prefer to talk through rigid screens
Seek the aid of fake faces
As we twinge from the heartaches

Cringe at crude pretensions

In which we refused to partake
It occurs to none
That behind these masks
Of rude candidness

We are but clusters of solitude

Wallowing, in carelessness
Among other solitudes.

"If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?"

Dvoynik

Sad, sad

Was the living Orchid

Next to her twin made of silk

They looked much alike, one wouldn't tell the difference

At first glance

Side by side, they were placed, adorning the corridor of a maternity ward

She had petals white as milk with a purple shade

She had a green core and yellowing blades

She had a bent spine and a few bare twigs

And her scent and charm have started to fade

Over the month of November

Since no one looked her way any more

And she's forgotten how to be beautiful

Next to her peer of plastic flush

Forever flourishing

Forever abiding

Forever pretty

Forever lush

When the lights go off she whispers to her sister

And when the silence prolongs, she opts to pester

"I may not smell nice but you don't smell at all."

"My flowers may fall but you are cold as ice."

When it's time to rebloom, she casts a glance of gloom

At her immortal ilk

Only matched in glory when you look from a distance

Hominid jealousy against indolent indifference

And sad, sad,

Was the dying Orchid

Next to her twin made of silk.

The Bolter

I run away from you

I run away towards you, and somewhere along the mobius track

The difference doesn't matter

Pursuing your back, I sprint
Trying not to plunge into my own shadow, I lighten my steps
At tricky corners
And I squint to see beyond the smoke and the haze
You are ahead in the chase, never looking behind

Your traces in the air, they never bide

Only my anxieties are running to my side, relentless
My faithful companion

I yearn for you

I yearn for you yet I'm wary of your closeness
I stop in motion, petrified, looking airy while terrified
Of many things I can't explain
Of this darkness I'm told it has left my gist
When it audibly wriggles in the calm of the night
How I refrain from revealing my heart
Still lawful and deft
Or escape the kettle when I'm revealed as a brittle

And all my life, I've been running away

From everything
Towards something
From myself
To the arms of someone
This dire affliction
The growing seed of affection
What hides in the blind spot to my right
As I scan my left in alarm

What clots in my veins as I scour my might
A memory, a dream

A past, a future
An unbearable present
The edge of a cape, the invisible route to escape 
A lifelong pursuit of a comfort denied
An endless flight from the rumble of the day
And the terrors of the night
Wasn't so bad
Until I realized
Our time is the fastest sprinter, isn't it ?
Already waiting at the line, with a wry smile

Say, why did you knock my doors if you were planning to run for it ?

For You In Full Blossom VI

There is magic in kind gestures

Undemanded. And rich

There is strength in small acts of goodness

Done with little to no expectations

Sincerity and devotion that disarm and bewitch

The more one reaches out for the deep well

That is a stranger you have known for years 

And years

Yet still, they got countless stories to tell

On warm nights, while resting your palms on the cold sand

Tender sighs coming from the ocean

Confiding. And chill

Love unrequited, yet whole and content

Emotions withheld lest a touch with a vile intent

Would defile this affection

Flowing like a gelid waterfall

Soothing like a lone petal of a rose

Appealing to the nose on its own

More so, scattered gracefully, snowflakes of passion

Adorning the path of your inviolate beau

To your sanctuary.

Gouged Ebony

How I used to dance waltz with words and verses
Thinking I was a conqueror of sorts
Flair and glory sewn unto my fingers
Metaphors carved on the palm of my hand
My wand I swung and fireworks sparkled
The flare gone, the smoke lingered
Inside my head
Yet at the sight of them sealed hearses
Traces of bitterness stiffened on my lips
When I touched the articles bequeathed to their kin
Helplessness hid beneath my lax tongue, like orphans of war
It became heavier, the more I spoke
Or the longer I paused
When my words waver I always let my limbs talk
See, I move on quick to mitigation, casual
And I embraced your pieces a bit stronger than usual
Heard a crackle and
Thought that I broke your bones, now tender crackers
Or what was left of your pillars
Grazed into thinness by the claws
Of loss

"Do seek solace."

I bade, flustered

Much reflection and that's all my butterflies mustered
You stood there, half of your features hidden in the dark
To my mind an aesthetic canvas of woe and affliction
Time seemed to unwind
I couldn't tell if that faint curve would pass as a smile
If it was, it spoke volumes
Your skin, tired though young, was dark like the trunk
Of the oldest ebony
And my chest it shrunk when I traced your gaze

Empty and 

Unaltered

Your long branches faltered 

Your shadow faded, your oval face
Broken faience with a subtle glaze
You knew that I knew
That condolences and shrills
The small talks after, them anecdotes as well
Light reminisces and laughter
Though resounding- like an ominous knell
Pounding through the hall
Reflecting off the pale walls

They don't revive the dead, do they ?

And seldom console the ones left behind
Like guiltless daggers, they
Often dig through bare flesh
Poison the living
And kills them instead
Slowly.

"It was a flood that wrecked this.


                                                     And you caused it."

Note IX

Today I was seized by a MAJOR panic attack at work.
I was asked about my plans for my birthday, and I realized that I don't even remember how old I am (typical).
Turns out I'll be 26.
Twenty years and six.
I'm as old as Hajime No Ippo. No shit.
Oh my God, I haven't achieved anything major in my life yet. I'm still a social mess. I'm still immature when it comes human bonding. My time management is a joke. I can't cook for shit. I forget things and dates. I forget people. I haven't published my book yet. My account balance is 0.00 (the decimal zeros for a stronger impact, wild move, NBAD). I still haven't found the one (though allegedly he found me). I still didn't finish grad school. I still didn't find a job in my field. Soon I'll start to see white hairs and my bones will ache when I exercise too much. Soon the effects of my bad habits during my teens will show on my face and body. My hair will start to thin, my teeth will start to decay, by breasts will sag and my belly will give up.
I'm gonna have to settle for any man just to be able to bear kids and check that box on my list.
Oh my God.
I need a triple shot of Mocha and somebody lend me their shoulder. Ugh I was caught off guard on this fine Sunday morning and didn't expect my life to weigh this much on me.

Smfh why did you have to remind me of how big of a failure I am ?

Summer Rush

I'm hyperventilating at this dark hour because I'm stopped in motion and life is slipping away too fast
Shivering in this heat
Heaps of books and an old Orchid to keep me company
Neo Jazz and flowing poetry
And it dawned on me that it's time to stop saying No and give it another chance
It's been happening a lot, this courting thing, but I'm not sure
I'm afraid that I lost the willingness to give and reach out
And the patience to endure
I've endured long when I'm this young and the mere thought of its continuity is 
Unbearable
I'm entrusted by expectations bigger than my age
They never looked my way 6 months ago, and now he wants to tip the hat he doesn't have
I'm moving on in an alarming pace I might feel ahead and entitled to go
I want to go, I need to go
But a lot of people would kill to be in my place
My muscles hurt, all of them
Extensive exercise and extensive reading
He no longer mocks me, ol'man, but treats me like a peer
He says "brilliant" more often
And it scares me
I feel kinda dead inside and so full of life at the same time
When I'm around people
I talk to God after each prayer but I still feel too far from Him during the day
I want to hide from the world but I'm told that I make it tolerable
My phone rings a lot for a socially anxious person
He lurks at the parking lot when he doesn't need to
He follows me home when he has no business doing so
He never talks to me
I should be scared but I understand. And I don't care
I find solace in loneliness and loud company alike
Baskin Robins at 1:31 am

Hottest summer of my life.

“They say the sea is actually black and that it merely reflects the blue sky above. So it was with me.
I allowed you to admire yourself in my eyes.
I provided a service. I listened and listened and listened. You stored yourself in me.”

"Valya was lighter than a shadow. The lightest of shadows; the shadow of falling snow, might have envied her."

"Who taught you all that, doctor?"
"Suffering."

"She burns like the sun and I can't look away."

Everyone is so tanned around here. And they all wear the same welcoming expression when you pass by; it's hard to tell where they came from.
Soshitte, mina wa onnaji da; istumu, eien ni,

Nanika o sagashiteiru daro.

It's okay.
I, too, run away from people the minute I feel a change in their rhythm.

Ishi

This is my dying will :
I trust that out of the few people that frequent this place; at least one would take it upon them to redeem me, for old time's sake.

Burn all my portraits. Most of them are in my studio, and the rest you will find in my parent's store room, in boxes tucked away. I wouldn't call them portraits; the ones I made in my childhood, but just to be on the safe side. They aren't many; for I stopped. Or tried to.
You'd say that I should just get up and do it now but I'll tell you that i'm too weak and fragile to abandon my only way of comfort.
I was told that my debts will be pardoned, so what's left of my money, kindly dole in my name and my parent's.
This is addressed to my siblings : take care of my mother. She cries a lot, a gentle soul made out of love; part of hers will go away with me, I'm sure. Keep talking to my dad, distract him constantly, try to make him laugh, he would figure your intentions and laugh anyway when he's crying inside. I took it upon myself to do that when his mother passed away.
I have no attachment to my personal belongings; you could give my clothes to the needy. Give my paintings to Amina. My Academic work to Hugh. Everything wooden to Wisal. My queer collectibles to Roxana.
It would be nice to give away my annotated books to my friends but I'd personally hate to have a reminder of a ghost stuck in my life like a piece of meat between one's teeth. My paintings and hand made stuff don't resemble me, or don't expose me as my books do.
Let me go, don't get hung up on my departure, but don't wipe out what's left of my existence.
I opted out of my social media accounts for various reasons so there is no worry of anything poisonous I said or posted being recycled. This blog I can't erase though. It's my proof of life.
I give you full freedom to publish any content you find worthy at your discretion and strictly under my name. See if my family would need the royalties and kindly give part of it to an organization that would put into good use. That is, if it ever sells.
And pray for me, I must selfishly ask. In the darkest hours, remember that I'll need it. Don't exert yourself; just a few whispers asking for mercy on my behalf is all I need. God will send you someone to do the same when you are gone.
And although I tried to live my life without regrets, with the rings of death constantly dangling from my earlobes, I have no means of knowing whether I unintentionally hurt a person.
I'm sorry, tell them, if you ever stumble upon the knowledge of my wronging a bitter soul that could never forgive me when I'm bedded beneath the soil.
Whatever it is that I did; I'm sorry.
That I hurt you. That I don't remember. That I haven't noticed.
If you read this while I'm still alive and feel that I owe you an apology, please let me know.
I'm forever haunted by the sad ghosts of those who have left, the wheezes of the lumps of unspoken words in one's chest, withheld feelings bulging and degenerating, dripping along with one's blood and tears, invisible footprints, traces of their presence on the floor, on walls, on cushions, on door handles, on steering wheels, on dented pages, on the remote control, in one's heart, a reminder of the brevity of life, buckets of regret splashed over everywhere in a vain attempt to ease the stings of loss, that I never wish for anyone to get subjected to this kind of pain : the prospect of never being forgiven by a person.

"Who will mourn me away in their poetry?"

Space Dementia

My greatest terror is that I won't be able to escape you,
After all these years, this long and bloodless war
We started when you stood in my way.
I fear the most, that it is you
After all.
And I
Knew that I got sucked in and trapped within your field.
When you didn't break a sweat to make me yield.
Alluring, your flames, and they tingled a bit
Before they turned a shade of gray.
You put a spell on me; when I tried to stay sober.
And still I knew in my heart that my only way out was a fusion,
A stellar collision.
Or a constant state of anarchic repulsion.
Electric touches.
Mind games and running in mazes.
Cat and mouse chases in small hutches.
Curios gazes. 
Entrapment by ruse.

Tenderness.

Awkwardness.
Misunderstanding.
A heart bruise.
Animosity.
A truce.
Uneasiness.
Suffocation.


Helplessness.




Defeat.




Pride.



Remembrance.



Vanity.





Indifference.





I don't know what you want and you don't know what you want.
I know what I want and you think you know what I want.
You can't stay away and I can't bring myself to step closer.
You don't want to fall once and I've fallen enough times
To know how it feels to live in Vertigo.
You don't think you need to explain when you are such a veteran mouser
So your actions end up not making any sense
And i think in explaining lies all the essence
I'm volcanoes beneath a still pond, and you are a spasm of unrest 
And this is unnecessary, I realize as I listen to your jest
When your eyes be saying all the things you don't think you need to say out loud.
This is all so pointless, I sigh.
But in the grander scheme of things; this grinding of egos is eternal.
My defiance and your allure.
You want it to stop and I don't care if it doesn't.
See, I've been fighting for too long; my default setting is
To Endure.
When you've never let your heart stray too far to trip and scratch its knees.
This is a perpetual fray;
Because I love myself and you detest me for it.
Because you think you love me and I'm ought to hate you.
Because you love yourself and think that I should love you.
Because you love my kind and never made it known.
When I hate your kind and have always make it known.
The way you have to complicate things so simple.
They way I simplify things meant to be complicated.
How you reduced me into a mathematical problem
And crossed out my unknown variables.
Ones I couldn't bear with for 25 years,
Yet the ones I couldn't live without.
The ones you couldn't live with and didn't bother to solve.
Your richness of gestures and poverty of words.
And my faith in the weight of feelings spoken;
When my erratic actions are never a token.
How you never ventured to know me.
My dankness of being; and my lightness of soul.
How I came to learn all your nooks and crannies from the first dialogue
How you know that I know you.
So you run to hide in the shadows until I forget who you are.
The way you read the synopsis and skip through the epilogue.
The way I try to divine what's hidden between the lines.
This pride of mine and that fearlessness of yours.
You loathe me for it.
I adore you for it.

This singularity of mine and that vanity of yours.
You want me for it.
I abhor you for it.

Your sense of entitlement.
My apathy.
Your lawless measures.
My code of conduct.
Your lurking around and stealing glances.
Your trails and ambushes.
My disinterested forwardness.
Your emptiness.
My chaos.
Your ugliness.
My ugliness.
How you think I'm "good enough"
How I know that you are no good.

The way I still want you, nonetheless.
Want you.
Want you.
Want you.
In bright days and sleepless nights.
In busy outings and lonely evenings.
They way I can't stand your sight and turn away.
I chose this anarchy of feelings.
When I know that a black hole would stop this whole madness.

Because chaos is beautiful.
And its the only thing beautiful about us.

"Would you stay with me, my love, when we are old and gray ?"

"Heavy is the burden."

Note VI

I guess girls are so used to being two faced and manipulative to get to certain ends ,they find a person that doesn't give a single fuck to pretend that bad of a news.
Mans really said that I think and act like a guy because I explicitly cut ties with her friend lol I just don't get why one should avoid "looking bad" by steering clear from straight up confrontation. Confrontation isn't always bad.
Well, not fists and insults kinda confrontation : we are cultured species, after all; you can make a point straight without offending someone. Much.
I think if there is a certain kinda behavior that your friends engage in and affects your well being, contradicts with your lifestyle or ideals, something that you don't generally approve of and wish to divorce yourself from; you have a perfect right to reject what's imposed on you, or walk away when you can't.
And i got zero interest and energy to change someone, or what they do; and I don't think I have the right to school anyone in their mid twenties; so finna ghost ,m8.
Have a great life.
I didn't offend you explicitly, and never actually grabbed you by the shoulder and told you that you are too superficial and empty for me to associate with. My withdrawal from your life shouldn't be taken as a major offense. And your being so is not my issue.
Your evident displeasure doesn't stem from your downheartedness at being deserted by a beloved friend- let's cut the crap- as much as a How DARE She Hate Me kinda reaction to my "disapproval" of you, or your life, the way you do you.
The mere idea of you not being liked by somebody, no matter how uncool they may be to consider them a reference for your validation.
Here are some facts : Statistically speaking; it's impossible to get along with everyone you stumble upon. No matter how nice you really are; no matter how nice you think you are, no matter how nice you try to act. Giving them what they look for, telling them what they want to hear, doing everything in your power to make sure you earn their favor; the human nature is just innately disposed to shun what it perceives as a constant reminder of its shortcomings.

There are people that are legit gonna hate you for just being, I've seen it.

So why should anyone put themselves in a position where they have to strain themselves, mentally and emotionally, even physically, so as not to make someone feel bad, inferior, rejected, at their own expense?
Life is too short for that kinda shit fam.
Just walk away from trouble in flesh, what's bad for you, what makes you cringe. What kills your vibe uno. No need to force yourself into loving someone, even your life partner. No need for you to change your whole life just to feel accepted by someone. And the minute that you sense that it's becoming a pre requisite to change in order to be friends with a person; RUN.
Wallahi life is enough complicated as is.
And all this mess due to miscommunication and dishonesty is the most ridiculous kinda spice to add to that dish.
And for all I know ,conveying to a person, as politely as possible, by any means available -without even having to state it verbally, that you just don't dig them, no matter how offended it may make them feel- for they gon get offended anyway, is far less despicable than taking selfies with them at an outing then trash them when they leave first.
I don't get why.
You don't pay my wages ,m8.
Even if you did, my pride is just too damn expensive for you to buy. They know it at work; they knew it at college, and it's how I was raised; it has nothing to do with my family name :

"Take no bull from nobody; and watch as you get the respect that you deserve."
"Tell no lies to protect yourself, and put yourself in no position that will require you to do so."

I mean; if I don't suck up to the person that controls my residence visa and vocational future; what could you possibly have to offer in return for my acting as your chaperone?
You  just talk about other people when you are not on your phone talking to other people while out with the ones that you call your friends. The ones that may need your attention and presence to cheer up and feel connected, the ones that count on you to speak truthfully, and to care without them begging for it.
There are very few friendships that I still maintain and appreciate as a 25 y/o, and they all have one common factor : Candidness.
We don't dress up to go to the fanciest place in town just to record a nice snap story "with the squad", when we don't even talk to the squad.
We take our cups of tea and drive to the far beach behind the bridge and just chill. And laugh, plenty. Sometimes we don't talk when our hearts are equally sunken, and we listen to old songs, or stare at the ocean, quietly. The presence of each is enough consolation, at this point in our lives.
Sometimes, it's just about the company, rather than the place. They don't matter, our ages, how we look, who we are, where we've been, 
What we have done, 
What we want to be, our tribes,our skin colors, our troubles, our dreams,

We just live the moment together, and that is all that matters.

Friends that forget their phones in the car when y'all out. Friends that come over to help you pack and send you off at the airport past 12 pm. Friends that accompany you to the hospital, actually take leave to visit you, give you a ride or a battery charge when ya stuck in the middle of nowhere. Friends that come over for a week when there is a death in the family.
Friends that could tell your mood on the phone and come knocking at your door. Friends that have the emergency copy of your keys and get calls from your parents when you are out of reach.
Friends that don't leave you on read because it makes them vibe important, friends that tell you when they are busy only to hit you up when they aren't.
Friends that know when it's okay to bring up something you told them, and when it becomes a taboo. Friends that you call for counsel when you have a fight with your lover, that you stand behind in your bridesmaid dress, and years later, you know you gonna bring over your kids to play with theirs.
Friends like fam.
You don't even have to try so hard to keep them, they finna stay.
And you will never compare to that, constantly talking about how miserable and boring your life is without a boyfriend, when you dumped 10 of them in the last year, being high maintenance on purpose, prying on everyone's troubles just to spell tea at outings, mysteriously being out of reach when someone needs you.
It's not about giving and receiving in return: at some point you just gotta ask yourself why are you friends with this person ?
What is the value of their friendship to you ? Emotionally.
Is it important to you to keep them in your life ?
Do you want them to be at your wedding ?

If you are dying tomorrow, would you remember them to call and bid your farewell ?

i'm not judging though, hey, do you. But there is nothing here for me to listen to, to get entertained by, learn from, nor relate to. We just don't vibe, with all due respect.
And it's not a "guys thing" to be a direct-you-get-what-you-bargain-for kinda person. Your thinking like that makes it sound like girls are supposed to be naturally sly and two faced.
Don't tell me how to behave. Don't make it sound like a personality disorder.
Girls are crazy man. I wish I could change my gender, if they all think like that.

I'm not gay though.

June 2015.

You said my poetry was beautiful.

November 2011.
You told me to be happy on my birthday. The first to post on my Facebook wall, 12:00 am.

Not "happy birthday.",
Not "I wish you happiness."
Not "I hope you find someone that makes you happy."

Just "be happy."

And in these two words lied all the difference.

Dirge

For a while, I've been off grid, locked doors and let drapes fall on my panes

Days and nights alternated on a Mobius strip, while I watched the shadows stretch on the wall

Light through the cracks in my being

My regrets, I could never escape

I found solace in the curves of letters and the persisting stains of charcoal

A companionship so bitter, frequent clicks of tongues and muffled sighs

The lines I've read, and the salt of the tears I've shed, the acrid taste of unuttered farewells

The sweet stupor of consciousness and the comfortable vigil of oblivion

Twice a day when it strikes 11:11, I close my eyes and wish

That I never turn to someone else's ghost

I found distraction in endless road trips, I try to stay awake to my best

By talking to my reflection on the visor, eyes only

Deafening beats in my ears that still can't stifle the echoes through my chest

Kindred spirits with too many problems that make me ashamed to speak of mine

Used to say that I'm fine, waving, because I'd write them away, my aches, while alone

And bare, back home

Yet I can't write like I used to; they just don't sound as sincere, my lines

Perhaps, it's because you are not around to read them anymore

I'm too broke for the sport of balling, not that it was at all condoling when I used to indulge

Folks think I'm rich when I'm dolling with my last dimes;

It's just that a living wretch would put it into better use

Since I started to live like I'm going to fade along with the sunrise

They all left while I was busy trying to live, you see, and I didn't get to tell them

They all leave, one by one, and I keep not telling them all there is to be told

They keep leaving and none of them did I ever get to hold , one last time

Distance is a b*tch

I still send you messages on new year's; never stopped to wonder who held unto your phone

If it was buried along in that chill ditch; buzzed and buzzed until it sighed its last bar

If anyone would reply in jest, just to make my ruffled mind rest in peace

When my heart is in many pieces

I realize ,in great distress that demise is inevitable

One could want to live and love like a hurricane against time, but we are all going to fade

In the end

Only loved and cherished, after we have perished

And I have bled for many a night, my sorrows on these pages for you

All the words of tenderness that I've tucked under my tongue

When, alas ! our time , yours and mine, was slipping away

On here, this restlessness you stirred shall remain, an immortal metaphor

But say, who will mourn me away in their poetry , after I have left ?