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It is when you find yourself forgiving the hands that crushed your heart.
  Oct 2016 Marium Iqbal
Colten Sorrells
breaking
promises
shattering
dreams
tears *hide
on my pillow
and silence my screams
I don't look to  create
only seek to destroy
and I play with emotions
as if they were toys
but hey, not to worry
I won't hurt no one else
cos I found
a suitable victim,

*myself
  Oct 2016 Marium Iqbal
taia
i remember your scent
it stained my favorite place to kiss on your neck,
and just behind your ear where you always nervously tucked your hair

i remember your flavor
the way your lips tasted like hope,
and the sweet tang of licking you off of my fingers

i remember your touch
how your palms where smooth like silk but your knuckles were hard and cracked,
and how our bodies felt when your bare skin rubbed against mine

i remember your sound
the way your morning voice resonated like you smoked two packs a day,
and how your moans were like the cries of angels

i remember the sight of you
how freckles were sprinkled across your cheeks,
and when your hair fell around your face and over your shoulders you looked a lioness

you awoke all five of my senses,
and you won't soon be forgotten
Marium Iqbal Sep 2016
You are a tornado.
You spin anyone too close to you, leaving them in a dizzy fit.
You break them before they break you.

No wonder I thought I loved you.
A tornado like me.
Promising trouble at every turn.

You whispered, "I love you".
Presenting it with secrecy.
Holding me hostage with twisted logic.

I am a tornado, I admit it.  
And two tornados only bring more chaos.
I'm self-destructive but, you're too much for me.

Your lips were drowned in chloroform.
And I kissed you for the burn.
The same way I smoke cigarettes to pollute my lungs.

We drag each other to hell.
Shoot each other's hearts.
Naming it love, so we don't have to call it "just ***".

You were always too much for me.
Too much chaos.
In return, I was presented with such little love.

We wrapped up each other's hearts.
Hid them in the shelves.
And danced away our summer days in my sheets.
The one handed thief ran out of the bank and jumped into the getaway car only to realize it was a four on the floor with stick shift .
  Sep 2016 Marium Iqbal
SE Reimer
~

we the people,
long have known
the write of
passages and poems,
whether bellwether,
envisionist or revisionist,
too oft have thought
this journey long,
and weight of hope and change
to another there belongs;
yet i subscribe
that we as scribes,
can right this ship,
not merely write it's wrongs;
for we it's pride
with hearts ascribe,
and note-by-note,
as carpenters and soldiers,
we its authors and its poets,
in words, in deeds,
writers, of a patriot’s song;
with deepest definition,
and inner soul reflection,
it's stanza, chorus, bridges,
we must lovingly inscribe.

~

*post script.

i know i am but one of many, who disillusioned, feel alienated, and could just as easily choose withdrawal as my reaction to our nation’s political plight. this then my belief, my plea, my hope we’ll see, withdrawal is not an option, that our words, deeds and even our writings carry weight, and bring with them hope and change to each community within which we each serve.  we are not merely writers of our history... we are authors of our destiny!  

if you are not an American, hope and pray for us, please, for we desperately need your support!!   if you are, pick up the pen... pick up the charge... be the change!!
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