Blue Moon

I ran away to the moon, too many times, that my shadow and his now share a special song.

I wrestled the moon for answers, he hummed a tune for so long, I watched him dress the night in his light, underneath him, I became a memory.

The moon; my dearest friend and oldest love, tell me; when will your soft tides soften these hard edges in me?

Fallen

Women carry bodies of poetry within

A cruel wrench in the belly, of unspoken words, words like paper cuts, at the edge of their full tongues  

Women know that poetry is like surviving a war, of this fault of society that was built to break them, into always forgetting that the most beautiful of stars are the fallen ones

Forgetting that the sky whispers in the dead of night, and sends the moon down, to pray for every heart heavy with apologies; apologies of being good in a world so hideous

Forgetting that the devil is made of flesh, and lives in the crowd of other men

Forgetting that the wild air and sunshine will always breathe for them, in days where it takes more than a few muscles to survive

Little girl,

Your memory betrays me, and I'm too weak; I'm too weak, each and every time I remember you, the present holds the weight of the past, and the blame is never too far off my fingertips, to move on

The night I held your lifeless body, I couldn't even quite recognize it, with the scary haunt of darkness, that crushed the sun in you, turning my entire world pitch black

your body that clung to my arms like a last cry, thrown in the dirt, turned inside out, I crouched down on the cold floor, to scrub every bleeding scar underneath your skin

I thought if I scrubbed enough, id make the haunt go away, that my embrace is enough to warm you, into bringing you back to me, into believing that everything will be okay  again

... Till this day I don't think I've scrubbed enough

No, no, this is not the you I know, not the one who dimmed the light of my existence, one winter-night, brought home to me, forgotten; a poor victim of hate

How could hell consume a soul so young?

Stranger's hands claimed your honey his, as he stripped you off all the colors that God had painted your pure beauty with

He sucked the violet from the lightness of your skin, with eyes of piercing blood, that starved the innocence from your roots

He thrusts himself into your boundaries, pushed himself into the depth of your shivers, irrupting the flow of your waters, with one stolen touch

Then puffed you into nothingness

Little girl,

Rage is that fire burning within, always there, always there to remind me, of all that could have been of you, you: are the longest sigh deep in the ruins of my being

I fell under the blur of life, the night they covered your broken parts, to take you back to earth, that night;  shadows became my only weather

I know, the angels must've cried for you, as they pulled you on their wings, like a ghost memory, soon to be washed with the wind, that carried the evil sins of other men

Nobody knows the drops of pain poured, late in the silence of nights, of a mother who failed to protect her only child

Nobody knows the sorrows, she seeks refuge in, to torture herself with, shrinking slowly along the guilt that kills

Nobody crumbles into dust faster than a woman, carrying a stone-burdened heart, within

Little girl,

I write to extend my hand for you, and I know under the care of earth, you are protected, and loved better than anyone could ever be

Sometimes I wait in my sleep for you, and I dream of you, dancing far, far away, in a galaxy, lost in an eternity of salvation, no longer longing for yourself  

There I find you; alive, forever in peace 

Nights

This unfurling of the mind chases away the light in solitary places, thoughts tell too much in the dead of night

Out of nothing, another world is squeezed into being, and what was once absent, marches into space for explanations

'Nothing' bears an undetectable deaf noise; loud thoughts with thorns in it's mouth, burning quietly in the dark, to dissolve into bitterness

Thoughts wrestle peace in the night air, lighting a match for memories, to settle in a space of sadness

Ghost

You are the remains of beauty, you've mimicked so skillfully, the literature I once sought and clothed myself with, now I undress books only to find another part of you, a part you lost behind, words pull me to weep for you, and I resist to hand you more of my feelings, I leave my books open with their bare bones for the winter night to crowd them, and in that moment a shadow-memory strikes me; all these unfinished metaphors terrify me, they sound like my heart when it's slopping a hangover, when it keeps coming back again, when it stops here again, to fall apart again, hoping to bleed an ending to a story that no longer carries your name. 

Stuttering

The heart aches

For exceptional things

I yell to the muteness

Of a life

Give me a taste 

Or better yet... 

An accidental stay;

A mighty fall into a powerful play

I want greatness

A fire to my stare

Collapsing every bit of dread-filled fear

My oh my dreadful fears

Oh

I am wasting away

Into freckles

Of sad nights,

Cold literature

& an familiar absence of cravings

That goes unnoticed

Inside a world

I hear the waves stuttering grey

They wait around for someday

For the world to answer back

To slip itself into words instead of echoes

Paint

they told me a lover of the rain is a lover of impossible ends, they said the rain only falls to watch life shivering at it's own fragility

maybe they're right, but I still wish they would know, how the rain lies down to embrace an empty appetite like mine

with it's soft drizzle, I'm reminded of my father's deliberate anecdotes, the curl of stories that settled in warmth deep in my bones

with it's heavy fall, I hear my lover's generous laughter, the one that carried the stars home, the one that always sees the beautiful parts of me

with it's grasp of lightening, an early  memory fills me, of my mother's tender touch at the edge of sleep, spilling Surat Yasin to drown out my fears

the rain holds so many of my memories, aloud and alive for my heart to always remember; that even in endings beauty still remains

Detachment

Happiness escapes me to free itself, leaving my emptiness completely untouched. Cowardly I suffer within an absence filled with an inextricable silence, speaking is impossible here.

I fell into his arms like a refugee, soaking in a lonely cry of a sadness I could never dare to share. His arms spread it's roots out, walked me slowly through the darkness; this long agony I wanted to burst open, to wreck all the ugly in the world, till my smile is pure again. I want to feel whole again. Please hold me again.

Hardness, hardness, hardness.

This world is so hard on my mouth, my language is so black, so afraid, so ashamed, so aware I'm tired of it.

People are voices lost in translation, how do I bring my own voice to life, when my speech could never sustain itself against the vast distance.

I never recovered from the taste of betrayal. I only collapsed and forgiveness became insufferable after. What is the meaning of torment, when the past will always remain an unresolved chapter?

It's so strange to think, I woke up from a dream to write this.