ولأني أحبك .. أنا في دعائي أذكرك
Her absence felt bitter on my tongue, saying her name to counteract it, to feel her sweetness in her name, I said it over and over like a broken tape player that no one bothered to mend, the noises it mumbled were pleasing to the ears. Every letter comes out, with spaces in between, and that’s where I lose myself, patiently waiting for her as every letter comes to peace with my tongue and I can move on to the next, in that minimal void period lies all the pain and misery, of wanting her, selfishly, to lay no further than my eyes can gaze, and close enough for my arms to reach. It felt heavy, in my throat, to call her when she wasn’t there, I was scared if she heard my screams, I’d expose the vulnerability that echoes when she goes missing, the way a fetus could not live outside a womb, and I couldn’t live outside her, let alone without her. I couldn’t and I wish I would blend into her skin, dispatch of my own, thrive in her, become her, make her heart an eternal prison cell, the most heavenly prison cell. I’d do anything right now, to see her, to hear her, to tell her I crave her existence, I miss her, I miss her, it hurts, cause I love her.
when you sit attentively in class but you dont understand a thing the teacher is saying
The city and her
She had to leave everything behind, hold dear the most precious flashbacks and concepts, breeze in with her fears and doubts, in hope for a rebirth, a renovated existence to her already mesmerising soul and heart. It frightened her skin, to feel a hand down hers, in the vacancy her fingers left in between, she was scared she’d realise how the abandoned crack in her chest encased a heart, how sentimental every beat was, she was petrified to love, but even more to be loved, to feel and what is more grievous than feeling then cutting off, not feeling anymore. The city was no wondrous escape, a deluding set of corners that lead nowhere and roads that ran endlessly, luringly blemished, yet the urge and passion to discover the allies and valleys leisurely withered away, she’d grown into a prisoner of a gruesome storm that rained in rivers and not drops, that barely saw sunshine, that no longer exhibited alluring hospitality , the pavement was always slippery, but she wanted to stand up right, she wanted to walk again, to walk out, of the city she fell in and out of love with, to find an outskirt, live as long as she may, till the boulevard ceased away and there was no way back to the city, but a million to diverse undiscovered urbs. The voices in her head summoned her not to leave, cause the city had laid siege around her, there was no way, she needed none, she was a girl of this town, the love of a life, the identity of a human, it was no choice, she would stay, for the better days, for the reviving allure, she would stay, this is where she was meant to be, where lies awe-inspiring and breathtaking eternity..
Not that they are, not at all.. I’ll always write as long as I’m capable of doing so and as long as it doesn’t overwhelm or burden me.
Thank you magical/beautiful anon who made my day :’)
Silence contemplates a thousand words, never defies how little there is to say, just simply means there’s far too much that cannot be spoken out, it can either be felt, like a pinch of salt to a fresh wound, or cherished in places it will most definitely diminish, mostly your heart, it expands and expands, but then bursts and it dispatches your soul for a void space between your two lungs that have either ruptured too or are incompliant to inhale, reluctant to breathe.
When I feel the most is when I need to talk the most but it’s when I speak the scarcest words, the fingers in a hand outnumbers them, but they possess a meaning no other owns, they’re sincere as could be and a scarring identity. In time, I’ll have a voice to be heard, at the end it’s useless talking if it’ll all go in vain, if what I said doesn’t resonate enough, then how do i talk? What do I say?