so you set out to heal your trauma.
out of options,
you hope this is the right path.
you're desperate for somthing,
a different future,
a better me, you say.
you grab the first line
and you start pulling,
for truth, answers, anything.
you don't want to fail.
you unpack the boxes
the best you can,
and begin to understand
even the most beautiful colors
can blind.
the heartbreak comes in discovering
those who let you down
were the ones meant to shield.
and then the grief comes.
this person you are is only a shell,
built from broken promises,
a life you never conceived.
didn't you try once
to break free?
resilience,
they call it.
**** i love picking at old scabs.
they make me feel alive.
they hold the mirror
of who i used to be.
raw,
messy, wild, unfiltered,
and i miss her sometimes.
i'm clean sharp lines now,
measured and drawn,
because i no longer suffocate in the gray.
you resist at first
then learn to accept
that peace in chaos
will never exist.
what you do find is a quieter life,
where the demons finally sleep,
and you don't keep looking
over your shoulder.
waiting,
for an end you didn't write.
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 1:09 AM UTC
I won't romentacize our relationship,
pretend like we always got along,
saw eye to eye.
We loved and needed to be loved differently.
I pushed and you smothered.
How detrimental that turned out to be.
While I felt suffocated under your patronage,
you feared my need for autonomy,
and we crashed, the worst car wreck to be.
How trivial it all seemed that day
when the emergency room called.
Cardiac arrest, the nurse had said,
9:30 a.m.
You were pronounced.
My birthday is next week.
I still have your voice message,
the last birthday wish I would receive.
At 12:00 a.m.,
I will play it, as I have done,
so you can still be the first
to sing to me.
It's the little things afterall,
isn't it, daddy?
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 11:31 PM UTC
It's been years
and yes, I would write more back then,
when the hurt was loud and poems scripted themselves.
It's different now—
the hurt replaced
by an intellectualized
understanding of the self.
I find it harder
to write those words
the ones that bleed on paper.
I learned new words—wounds, trigger, attachment,
how anger is a feeling not just a reaction—
meant to name the pain, to put it in perspective,
and I turned to pattern rather than prose.
My therapist says
I intellectualize too much.
Maybe.
I think
I survived.
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 10:27 PM UTC
Where did we go wrong?
When did things start splitting at the seems?
Who was it that let you down?
When did you lose your faith?
Where did you lose your faith?
Can I help you find it?
You are waist deep in water
Does that mean what I think it does?
I don't understand why you want to leave
And I don't blame you for wanting to leave.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 11:48 PM UTC
I am annoyed that I express myself better in writing than speech.
I suppose it's because no one can see your tears behind a screen.
Even more so, perhaps it's because no one can hear my inner thoughts.
Maybe I like the freedom of how my worry turns into hope turns into fear.
In my inner head, I call you a coward. Looking down on your weakness.
I can't let go of this anger borderline hatred. I refuse the notion to forgive.
Instead, I hang on to this and it is not to punish you.
I cannot let go, so I will not forget that it is not safe to trust.
Not okay to fall in love.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 11:31 PM UTC
You are nothing more than another verse sent by the universe to be added to my book of tragedies.
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
There's an Arab proverb
my mom always recites
or is it a verse from the Quran?
fix your eyes' gaze into God's eyes
meant to inspire
to reaffirm your faith, when it all goes to ****
for sake of arguing, I silently nod
thinking how tired my neck is
from staring up at that sky
she constantly prays for us
arms outstretched, palms facing the heavens
her faith unwavering
even when her prayers are left unanswered
i used to believe that salvation was around the corner
as a younger me sharing my prayers
certain that the world grew quiet
as if hushed by Him just to hear my words
it felt real, i felt heard, i felt relief
they say God only troubles those he loves
if it is to test my faith, then I have failed
there's a defiance that lives in my heart
fueled by anger of abandonment, of regret
pained by His disregard
i don't try to fix what has been broken
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 10:37 PM UTC
the broken,
the bruised,
the unwanted,
the hopeless,
the soft spoken,
the jaded,
the cynical,
the sleepless,
the dreamers,
the restless,
Where do we go
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 9:26 PM UTC
My love for you is like casting a stone into water that inevitably sinks to the bottom as soon as it breaks the surface.
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 9:23 PM UTC