ashna-ali-khan - Hello Poetry

Not a stare, but a theft. It started with a glance A soft, recurring robbery of my attention until the space between us wasn’t empty anymore. At first, I called it "normal." I called it "fine." But then my pulse started acting like a bird in a cage, wings beating against my ribs, reminding me that I was being seen. He is a historian of the small things. He doesn't just know me; he archives me. He remembers the way I look when a sentence hits me hard, the way my coffee goes cold when I’m lost in a chapter. He takes me to bookstores and doesn’t look at the bestsellers; he looks at me looking at the shelves. “Whatever you need,” he says, And I realize he isn't just buying me books He’s buying me the quiet I need to breathe. He’s a man of few words, but when they come? They arrive like a slow-moving river. Deliberate. Deep. He doesn’t try to "fix" the storm in my head; he just sits in the rain with me. He validates the mess, He hears the unspoken, And suddenly, the noise in my brain feels... manageable. He speaks as if he’s weighing every syllable against the gold of my peace. I think about that first night— The "I do’s" were over, the music had died down, and there he was,feeding me. A quiet ritual of belonging, his hands steady while mine were shaking. Making me feel at home in a body that’s usually a war zone. On the nights when I am anxious as hell When the shadows in the room start growing teeth, He doesn't lecture. He just loves. Subtle. Constant. A hand on my back in the dark, anchoring me to the bed so I don’t float away into the "what-ifs." And the next morning? He’s the observer of the shiver. He sees my toes curl against the cold floor while I’m just... sitting. And without a word, the quilt is there. Draped over my feet like a promise he never bothered to say out loud. He knows my body’s language before I’ve even learned the dialect. He’s away for work, but he’s never gone. The phone lights up. The check-in. The tether. He is looking out for me in the ways people usually forget The "did you eat?" the "are you resting?" The invisible safety net he weaves across the miles. To the man I’ve given my heart to; I can’t really say "thank you" for how much you look for me; the words feel too small for a debt this beautiful. I cannot deny my love for you, as much as I might want to guard it; it has overflowed. You are my anchor in this endless, shifting ocean. And I need you to know: you will always be taken care of. You will always be looked after by the same hands you’ve held so gently. I would not want to look away from you, even if the world offered me a thousand wonders, because my eyes are too full of you. I have memorized the map of your kindness, the way your silence speaks louder than any vow. If your strength ever wavers, let my heart be the ground you stand on. I am staying right here, in the light you’ve built for us. “I’ll do whatever it takes for that smile,” he tells me. And the thing is? He doesn’t make me a single promise. He knows that words can be hollow, that "forever" is a heavy thing to carry. So he doesn't carry the word; he carries the action. He just wakes up and strives. He just wakes up and loves. And he loves. And he loves.

0

Feb 18

Feb 18, 2026 at 6:28 PM UTC

Not a Stare but a Theft

Not a stare, but a theft. It started with a glance A soft, recurring robbery of my attention until the space between us wasn’t empty anymore. At first, I called it "normal." I called it "fine." But then my pulse started acting like a bird in a cage, wings beating against my ribs, reminding me that I was being seen. He is a historian of the small things. He doesn't just know me; he archives me. He remembers the way I look when a sentence hits me hard, the way my coffee goes cold when I’m lost in a chapter. He takes me to bookstores and doesn’t look at the bestsellers; he looks at me looking at the shelves. “Whatever you need,” he says, And I realize he isn't just buying me books He’s buying me the quiet I need to breathe. He’s a man of few words, but when they come? They arrive like a slow-moving river. Deliberate. Deep. He doesn’t try to "fix" the storm in my head; he just sits in the rain with me. He validates the mess, He hears the unspoken, And suddenly, the noise in my brain feels... manageable. He speaks as if he’s weighing every syllable against the gold of my peace. I think about that first night— The "I do’s" were over, the music had died down, and there he was,feeding me. A quiet ritual of belonging, his hands steady while mine were shaking. Making me feel at home in a body that’s usually a war zone. On the nights when I am anxious as hell When the shadows in the room start growing teeth, He doesn't lecture. He just loves. Subtle. Constant. A hand on my back in the dark, anchoring me to the bed so I don’t float away into the "what-ifs." And the next morning? He’s the observer of the shiver. He sees my toes curl against the cold floor while I’m just... sitting. And without a word, the quilt is there. Draped over my feet like a promise he never bothered to say out loud. He knows my body’s language before I’ve even learned the dialect. He’s away for work, but he’s never gone. The phone lights up. The check-in. The tether. He is looking out for me in the ways people usually forget The "did you eat?" the "are you resting?" The invisible safety net he weaves across the miles. To the man I’ve given my heart to; I can’t really say "thank you" for how much you look for me; the words feel too small for a debt this beautiful. I cannot deny my love for you, as much as I might want to guard it; it has overflowed. You are my anchor in this endless, shifting ocean. And I need you to know: you will always be taken care of. You will always be looked after by the same hands you’ve held so gently. I would not want to look away from you, even if the world offered me a thousand wonders, because my eyes are too full of you. I have memorized the map of your kindness, the way your silence speaks louder than any vow. If your strength ever wavers, let my heart be the ground you stand on. I am staying right here, in the light you’ve built for us. “I’ll do whatever it takes for that smile,” he tells me. And the thing is? He doesn’t make me a single promise. He knows that words can be hollow, that "forever" is a heavy thing to carry. So he doesn't carry the word; he carries the action. He just wakes up and strives. He just wakes up and loves. And he loves. And he loves.

73

“There’s no hope left for us,” I’m told as I splash water in my blood shot eyes. “If we don’t leave this house we are sure to die! You may think we are crazy and possibly a little high, but I assure you we are very wise.” I’ve been summoned to this strange old house to help out a family in need. After hearing the panic and concern in their voices over the phone, I immediately agreed, something evil is living in this house. Something evil is lurking here and causing a rouse. I know evil well and it knows me by name. It’s a fact I’m proud to admit and won’t hide away in shame. The fiend that haunts this place is waiting to confront me, I can feel its presence. It thinks it’s going to intimidate me and control me but I’m here to teach it a lesson. I’m here to provide this poor family with peace and solitude. I assure the family all will be alright but they don’t appear to be in a believing mood. The family leads me to a bedroom and stops at the door. They look at me, their eyes filled with fear, I wonder what I have in store. They show me a camera with pictures of orbs they tell me is evidence of paranormal activity. They tell me they refuse to enter this room anymore since the air is always filled with negativity. I tell them I believe them because I sensed the fiend’s presence when I walked into the house, and tell them I will have a look around the room myself and will get to the bottom of their problems once and for all. I enter the bedroom alone. The door closes behind me, I’m now in the fiend’s home. Chills and a sense of hopelessness immediately overcome me. To my right is a closet; I sense something inside urging me to flee. The fiend haunting this room is in that closet. I wonder if it’s too late for this family to get back their security deposit because this fiend has come straight from hell and is pure evil. It’s going to try to intimidate me but it’s about to find out I’m not so feeble. I turn my attention to the room and begin to look around. The room is for the most part empty except for a bed and a poster of…a creepy clown? Just why is that poster even here? It’s a very creepy sight to endear. There is a clock hanging on the wall that tilts on its side the second I look at it. A mild scare tactic I must admit. I walk over to the clock and move it back in place only to have it move back over on its side again. Once again I move the clock back in place. I stare at it waiting for it to once again become displaced. Instead, the hands stop moving and begin to reverse. No wonder this poor family thinks this room is cursed. With time now moving backwards on the clock, the bedroom windows behind me fly open loudly. I turn around and notice the clown on the poster smiling at me all proudly. I flip off the clown and ask the fiend if this is the best he has got. He believes he can scare me, but in fact he cannot. I’ve been battling this fiend for over a decade so I’m use to his games by now. Intimidation tactics is something I just don’t allow. Time to show yourself fiend and bring the games to an end. Come face me like a man, after all I am your long time best friend. This family is innocent and has nothing to offer you that you don’t already get from me, so give me your worst and let’s get back to how things are meant to be. Fight after fight, battle after battle, war after war until I reach my final day, then you can watch as my cremated ashes are caste away out in the bay. The closet door creeks open as my friend is finally ready to come out and play. I fold my hands together and pray. This dark beast is not match for the light of my father. It’s time to face off again and establish order in this house. The fiend appears from inside the closet. He slowly steps out; I think he’s trying to be modest. He is a dark shadowy figure, as dark as a moonless night time sky. His eyes burn in red as he snarls at me wishing I would just die. He wants nothing more than for me to bite the bullet and join him on the other side. However, that won’t ever happen, I contain just too much pride. I smile and wave at my friend and ask him how he’s been. He stares angrily at me without as much as a grin. I point my finger at him and motion to him to follow me. It’s time for him to come home with me and allow these people to get back to the lives they are meant to have. I exit and bedroom and tell the family there is no need to contact a priest to perform an exorcism. I tell them to continue readying the bible and to believe what they were taught in catechism. The fiend will no longer be a problem for them and the room will once again be safe to enter and use. I hand them my book and tell them it will answer all of their questions as long as they approach it with an open mind and don’t get offended by it and decide to come after me with a noose. I write the truth and the book is meant to help. I give them permission to contact me at any time if they have any future questions. My eyes open as I lie in my bed surrounded by the darkness of the night. I look at my alarm clock and see that it’s 3 am, that explains the lack of light. I sense evil all around me, my friend is back home where he belongs. I swear I can hear him humming a song. I look over to my bedroom door that is cracked open and see him standing outside the room. He smiles at me ready for our endless war to resume.

0

Dec 8, 2017

Dec 8, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC

3 AM.

“There’s no hope left for us,” I’m told as I splash water in my blood shot eyes. “If we don’t leave this house we are sure to die! You may think we are crazy and possibly a little high, but I assure you we are very wise.” I’ve been summoned to this strange old house to help out a family in need. After hearing the panic and concern in their voices over the phone, I immediately agreed, something evil is living in this house. Something evil is lurking here and causing a rouse. I know evil well and it knows me by name. It’s a fact I’m proud to admit and won’t hide away in shame. The fiend that haunts this place is waiting to confront me, I can feel its presence. It thinks it’s going to intimidate me and control me but I’m here to teach it a lesson. I’m here to provide this poor family with peace and solitude. I assure the family all will be alright but they don’t appear to be in a believing mood. The family leads me to a bedroom and stops at the door. They look at me, their eyes filled with fear, I wonder what I have in store. They show me a camera with pictures of orbs they tell me is evidence of paranormal activity. They tell me they refuse to enter this room anymore since the air is always filled with negativity. I tell them I believe them because I sensed the fiend’s presence when I walked into the house, and tell them I will have a look around the room myself and will get to the bottom of their problems once and for all. I enter the bedroom alone. The door closes behind me, I’m now in the fiend’s home. Chills and a sense of hopelessness immediately overcome me. To my right is a closet; I sense something inside urging me to flee. The fiend haunting this room is in that closet. I wonder if it’s too late for this family to get back their security deposit because this fiend has come straight from hell and is pure evil. It’s going to try to intimidate me but it’s about to find out I’m not so feeble. I turn my attention to the room and begin to look around. The room is for the most part empty except for a bed and a poster of…a creepy clown? Just why is that poster even here? It’s a very creepy sight to endear. There is a clock hanging on the wall that tilts on its side the second I look at it. A mild scare tactic I must admit. I walk over to the clock and move it back in place only to have it move back over on its side again. Once again I move the clock back in place. I stare at it waiting for it to once again become displaced. Instead, the hands stop moving and begin to reverse. No wonder this poor family thinks this room is cursed. With time now moving backwards on the clock, the bedroom windows behind me fly open loudly. I turn around and notice the clown on the poster smiling at me all proudly. I flip off the clown and ask the fiend if this is the best he has got. He believes he can scare me, but in fact he cannot. I’ve been battling this fiend for over a decade so I’m use to his games by now. Intimidation tactics is something I just don’t allow. Time to show yourself fiend and bring the games to an end. Come face me like a man, after all I am your long time best friend. This family is innocent and has nothing to offer you that you don’t already get from me, so give me your worst and let’s get back to how things are meant to be. Fight after fight, battle after battle, war after war until I reach my final day, then you can watch as my cremated ashes are caste away out in the bay. The closet door creeks open as my friend is finally ready to come out and play. I fold my hands together and pray. This dark beast is not match for the light of my father. It’s time to face off again and establish order in this house. The fiend appears from inside the closet. He slowly steps out; I think he’s trying to be modest. He is a dark shadowy figure, as dark as a moonless night time sky. His eyes burn in red as he snarls at me wishing I would just die. He wants nothing more than for me to bite the bullet and join him on the other side. However, that won’t ever happen, I contain just too much pride. I smile and wave at my friend and ask him how he’s been. He stares angrily at me without as much as a grin. I point my finger at him and motion to him to follow me. It’s time for him to come home with me and allow these people to get back to the lives they are meant to have. I exit and bedroom and tell the family there is no need to contact a priest to perform an exorcism. I tell them to continue readying the bible and to believe what they were taught in catechism. The fiend will no longer be a problem for them and the room will once again be safe to enter and use. I hand them my book and tell them it will answer all of their questions as long as they approach it with an open mind and don’t get offended by it and decide to come after me with a noose. I write the truth and the book is meant to help. I give them permission to contact me at any time if they have any future questions. My eyes open as I lie in my bed surrounded by the darkness of the night. I look at my alarm clock and see that it’s 3 am, that explains the lack of light. I sense evil all around me, my friend is back home where he belongs. I swear I can hear him humming a song. I look over to my bedroom door that is cracked open and see him standing outside the room. He smiles at me ready for our endless war to resume.

78

Let me be thy desires, as I take my desires from thee. Let me be thy passion, as I take my passions from thee. Let me rule thee, as thee shalt rule me. Let me surround thee, as I give thee my heart. Let me bind thee, as I give thee my mind. Let me inside thee, as I give thee my soul. Let me lead thee, and I shalt follow thy path. Let me show thee the way, as I find my way in thee. Let me taketh thee further than thou hast ever gone, as thee taketh me further than ever I knew I could go. Let me command thee, and I shalt obey. Let me discipline thee, and I shalt reward. Let me own thee, and I shalt be thy slave.

0

Jul 1, 2017

Jul 1, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC

Let me

Let me be thy desires, as I take my desires from thee. Let me be thy passion, as I take my passions from thee. Let me rule thee, as thee shalt rule me. Let me surround thee, as I give thee my heart. Let me bind thee, as I give thee my mind. Let me inside thee, as I give thee my soul. Let me lead thee, and I shalt follow thy path. Let me show thee the way, as I find my way in thee. Let me taketh thee further than thou hast ever gone, as thee taketh me further than ever I knew I could go. Let me command thee, and I shalt obey. Let me discipline thee, and I shalt reward. Let me own thee, and I shalt be thy slave.

24

Dad you and me are just two ropes tied on two really far away coasts, I can't get near to you because of the storm of insecurities in between us, we've always been the same magnets poles, always resisting each other, They say the love between daughter and father is ''Forever'' but we don't have any love in between us. I've been finding some space and love for me, in you since forever but I guess there was no love for me. This relation gave nothing except for some regrets and some harsh realities, which I won't never forget, till my death.

0

Jun 22, 2017

Jun 22, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC

You and Me.

Dad you and me are just two ropes tied on two really far away coasts, I can't get near to you because of the storm of insecurities in between us, we've always been the same magnets poles, always resisting each other, They say the love between daughter and father is ''Forever'' but we don't have any love in between us. I've been finding some space and love for me, in you since forever but I guess there was no love for me. This relation gave nothing except for some regrets and some harsh realities, which I won't never forget, till my death.

15

electric guitar screaming growling what a rush frenzied adrenaline stirs madness deep inside alcohol fueled new design on display showroom shine old demons shackled pierced anger naive tongues eyes watch from windows stalking pain stifled witness homegrown dysfunction killing innocence broken pieces collected stored in an empty bottle waiting for perfect timing to be made whole again

0

Jun 18, 2017

Jun 18, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC

The Screaming growling.

electric guitar screaming growling what a rush frenzied adrenaline stirs madness deep inside alcohol fueled new design on display showroom shine old demons shackled pierced anger naive tongues eyes watch from windows stalking pain stifled witness homegrown dysfunction killing innocence broken pieces collected stored in an empty bottle waiting for perfect timing to be made whole again

32

In the house of poems there are no words only sheaths of rapture color and puzzle cutouts on an empty table mute composed of shadow thin aching smoke ghosts desires aphotic and tender twisting souls in labyrinths lurid *** shake sweet inky ******* that turn earth to pleasure domes and shadows like cimmerian children in harsh judgment ******* on purple night shade candies burning incense and black candles uncrossing energies foreboding while subterranean crystals refract burnished glows pulsing blood diamonds in sacred heart manias throb with warm breathy kisses on plates of ash engulfing a terrace of pink flickering tongues drooling and biting that turn mere pleasure into inflammations of ecstasy oozing creme de menthe saliva where souls levitate and flutter on bilious stained beds copulating being impregnated with verse smelling of warm **** cauldron fetuses curl in their little crib's and bubble tapioca lyric wrangles afterbirths purged poems emerge like sand bars and palm tree islands from sopping woven tunnels and flow stone stalactites as pink ballet pastries with architected calves caress upturned posteriors dancing in glitter frilly word tutus while torrid confessions dreaded breakdowns and resurrections dress themselves in garments of language re-pleat quickened by eloquence in the house of poems

0

Jun 17, 2017

Jun 17, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC

In the house of poems

In the house of poems there are no words only sheaths of rapture color and puzzle cutouts on an empty table mute composed of shadow thin aching smoke ghosts desires aphotic and tender twisting souls in labyrinths lurid *** shake sweet inky ******* that turn earth to pleasure domes and shadows like cimmerian children in harsh judgment ******* on purple night shade candies burning incense and black candles uncrossing energies foreboding while subterranean crystals refract burnished glows pulsing blood diamonds in sacred heart manias throb with warm breathy kisses on plates of ash engulfing a terrace of pink flickering tongues drooling and biting that turn mere pleasure into inflammations of ecstasy oozing creme de menthe saliva where souls levitate and flutter on bilious stained beds copulating being impregnated with verse smelling of warm **** cauldron fetuses curl in their little crib's and bubble tapioca lyric wrangles afterbirths purged poems emerge like sand bars and palm tree islands from sopping woven tunnels and flow stone stalactites as pink ballet pastries with architected calves caress upturned posteriors dancing in glitter frilly word tutus while torrid confessions dreaded breakdowns and resurrections dress themselves in garments of language re-pleat quickened by eloquence in the house of poems

59

It been a long way each and everyday a struggle but with you by my side, with you holding me tight. I feel like I can fly I can win every fight, so what if we seen a war that almost impossible to win. As long as we have each other we can make it, even if we became so close in such short time I get up to see you, I get on to be with you, i love calling your name out knowing you be there. I can say this with all my heart can't think of anyone i would rather be with in my life. You are my home, my sun, my air that fills my lungs with you...i can be me and that one the most important thing about a relationship you can be your self and to know that person loves you for it makes my heart beat stronger. For when we together anything is possible.

0

Jun 16, 2017

Jun 16, 2017 at 2:35 AM UTC

Its been a long way

It been a long way each and everyday a struggle but with you by my side, with you holding me tight. I feel like I can fly I can win every fight, so what if we seen a war that almost impossible to win. As long as we have each other we can make it, even if we became so close in such short time I get up to see you, I get on to be with you, i love calling your name out knowing you be there. I can say this with all my heart can't think of anyone i would rather be with in my life. You are my home, my sun, my air that fills my lungs with you...i can be me and that one the most important thing about a relationship you can be your self and to know that person loves you for it makes my heart beat stronger. For when we together anything is possible.

1

I was like a flaming Tyre hurtling down a mountain: when it hit a rock bounced up smashed back down splashed burning blobs on everyone ...then kept going

0

Jun 14, 2017

Jun 14, 2017 at 2:58 AM UTC

I was like

I was like a flaming Tyre hurtling down a mountain: when it hit a rock bounced up smashed back down splashed burning blobs on everyone ...then kept going

17

I stopped. I began to revolve around the thing that changed me. I became the only thing you didn’t want. You thought more of him. The man you despise. My exact opposite. You wanted to get rid of me. You were too afraid. You wanted to keep your friends. I’m your friend too. I can bring bad things sometimes, but I bring good things too. I know you hate me now, but please don’t make me leave. Don’t make me leave. There’s so much we haven’t done together. I thought you’d continue to cherish me. But ***** it. It’s over. It’s too late now. I’m done. You’ve ended me with the call of your pistol. Time to say goodbye

0

Jun 8, 2017

Jun 8, 2017 at 3:34 AM UTC

Perspective.

I stopped. I began to revolve around the thing that changed me. I became the only thing you didn’t want. You thought more of him. The man you despise. My exact opposite. You wanted to get rid of me. You were too afraid. You wanted to keep your friends. I’m your friend too. I can bring bad things sometimes, but I bring good things too. I know you hate me now, but please don’t make me leave. Don’t make me leave. There’s so much we haven’t done together. I thought you’d continue to cherish me. But ***** it. It’s over. It’s too late now. I’m done. You’ve ended me with the call of your pistol. Time to say goodbye

21

There is a poem I have yet to write, For how does one write what only the heartless can feel? I speak with shards of my memory, For I am simply a shell of what once was. I love with my blood draining from my veins to write life, love in the empty white spaces. I am incapable of extracting my soul from the gallows where it remains chained to my hast been. But one can pretend to comprehend the foreign language that is my one and only fear.. love... For love is tempting and even the empty long for impossibility. I can say I love you in a emotionless and heartfelt tone. For I love you in my own coldness, seeing hope is still resting on one side of your ruins, while mine was emptied long ago. I need not feed your ears or your heart lies to speed you to recovery, but am content to give you the tiny morsels of me that remain so that your wounds May bare only scars in remembrance. I unlike you bare no signs of redemption, so I freely give you what is still free of rot and withering so that you may live with me. I am simply and only a shell with little crystals to give, For love once passed through me walking away with my soul, and love is now far beyond the reach of my door.

0

Jun 3, 2017

Jun 3, 2017 at 2:25 AM UTC

For love that is beyond my door

There is a poem I have yet to write, For how does one write what only the heartless can feel? I speak with shards of my memory, For I am simply a shell of what once was. I love with my blood draining from my veins to write life, love in the empty white spaces. I am incapable of extracting my soul from the gallows where it remains chained to my hast been. But one can pretend to comprehend the foreign language that is my one and only fear.. love... For love is tempting and even the empty long for impossibility. I can say I love you in a emotionless and heartfelt tone. For I love you in my own coldness, seeing hope is still resting on one side of your ruins, while mine was emptied long ago. I need not feed your ears or your heart lies to speed you to recovery, but am content to give you the tiny morsels of me that remain so that your wounds May bare only scars in remembrance. I unlike you bare no signs of redemption, so I freely give you what is still free of rot and withering so that you may live with me. I am simply and only a shell with little crystals to give, For love once passed through me walking away with my soul, and love is now far beyond the reach of my door.

14