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Aug 2018 · 310
Depression
Aishah Siddeeqa Aug 2018
I follow my depression like a ghost
Chained to it
Dragged around
Like a dog with a noose
Around my neck
I can only go so far
Resist so much
Before it jolts me back
Break the rope?
Pulling away
It pulls me back
Hard and fast
Cuts off my air
The skin around my neck
Newton’s third law
Equal and opposite
Nothing moves
Controlling the boundaries
The radius of me.
Any advice is appreciated
Aug 2018 · 244
Weapons
Aishah Siddeeqa Aug 2018
Your words cut me like a knife
No. Not quite
Less like a knife
You are not precise
You hurl your words at me
Fast but no control

What is your aim?
To hurt
To motivate
Both
Do you even know?

Your words slice me like a saw
A blade oxidised into rust
Blunt
Your wound isn’t clean
It doesn’t leave a straight red line
Or a quick way to heal
Like a zip
Or a trail of blood
To show someone else my way
Your words tear my skin
An impossible jigsaw
An empty space

Your words leave a scar
Pink
Like my favourite colour of lipstick
But it is angry
It burns
It rips open
Again
Any advice is welcome
Apr 2018 · 397
The Acts I Play
Aishah Siddeeqa Apr 2018
The final call
Breathe,
Slow and gentle,
Like your trying to make a candle flicker,
The darkness shifts shapes,
In and out,
(how else would you breath?
Up down?),
Smile,
Practice your face,
Carefully control each muscles contraction,
Tightening,
To create a (forced) relaxed face,
You spiral your hair around your finger,
Wind and unwind,
Twist your fingers around each other,
Tangle into bending shapes,
Stop,
Smile,
Just be normal for five ******* minutes.

Curtains up
The act has started,
No mistakes,
The shell must be maintained,
No cracks,
‘I’m fine’ (I’m breaking),
‘everything is great’ (everything hurts),
‘I will be okay’ (I want to die),
Look carefree,
Sylphlike.
Your cracking,
Your (pretending to be) tall,
Holding the space,
The room,
As much as your (small) body can,
Your actions exaggerated,
Slowed,
They see only (the fake) you.

Curtains fall
Just in time.
They cant know,
No muscles in your face contract,
This is you,
Dead eyed, dejected you,
The candle has blown out,
Smoke rises from the wick,
Curling,
Choking you,
Until you convulse,
Until your reflection shatters,
Lines cut through you,
The pieces fall on to the floor,
And you are empty.

Black,
Bleak,
A shadow.

Curtain call
Just how I was feeling on one particular evening.
Apr 2018 · 184
Dear You
Aishah Siddeeqa Apr 2018
I am alive
I am alive                                   
In part because of you
Your face is still a blank
A mystery
I never saw

Your voice
On the phone
Every week

‘How do you feel?’
There was no face to judge
‘Have you thought about hurting yourself?’
Direct
‘Can you keep yourself safe?’
Crucial
Questions no one cared or dared to ask
Did they really want to know?
‘Yes, I hope so’

Your voice kept me alive
And you never even saw my face

I hope you know how grateful I am
I hope one day I can tell you
Apr 2018 · 358
The event horizon
Aishah Siddeeqa Apr 2018
Imagine a blackhole
A contortion in the fabric of space
Twisting it to breaking point
Formed by a star collapsing into itself
Running out of fuel
Nothing can escape

That is me
In me
Around me

Imagine a river
And a boat
And people on the boat
The rapids of the water
The same speed as the boat travelling
Upwards
Going nowhere

That is the event horizon
Light at a loss
Gravity is an equal

I am there
Desperate
And tired
And worn out
And fatigued
And going nowhere

What
Is
The
Point?

Why don’t I stop?
Let myself fall in
Just let go
Just end this
pain

I am in the black hole
Simultaneously obliterating into pieces
Incinerating
And no one knows
No one can see
No one can see this me

I’m just freefalling
Mar 2018 · 494
Synthetic misery membrane
Aishah Siddeeqa Mar 2018
My synthetic misery membrane broke tonight,
A tear,
It’s content roll down my face,
A puddle emerges on my pillow,

It could not hold in any more
It could not hold me,
I could not smile any longer,

Artificial
Fake

Trapped inside my membrane
Drowning in its contents
It surrounds me.

Can I break it?
Should I break it?
Am I it?
Will it break me?
This is how I felt when I woke up at 2am and started crying for no reason. It had been a difficult day for no other reason than I was alive. I felt like I was trapped keeping my sadness hidden in a weak cell membrane like structure that broke when too much went in due to high pressure. I felt like sadness was all I was and ever going to be. I’m okay right now in this moment.
May 2017 · 265
The journey
Aishah Siddeeqa May 2017
My bones feel like they are about to collapse.
My muscles ache,
One more movement is impossible.
My feet drag in the mud,
Creating deep scars,
An imprint of my existence.
The sun burns my pale porcelain skin.
Its light overpowers my eyes,
Obscures my path,
With a blinding white.

There is a town waiting for me ,
At the end of my journey.
I cannot see it right now.
Its elusive in nature.
It shifts from place to place.
No remnants of its existence.
Yet I am sure it exists.
What other reason would I have for travelling?
Other people talk of it.

They talk of the children playing in the waist length grass.
They run and climb,
It does not inhibit their movements but spurs them on.
The chorus of their laughter can be heard for miles.
They talk of the cherry blossoms,
which fall from the trees like eternal snow.
It compliments the vibrant magenta of the flowers dotted around the field.
They talk of birds which sit in the trees and sing in a perfectly synchronised euphony.
The trees provide a cool shade and a place to nap.
The sun is warm and endearing.
The light illuminates the colours around you.

My knees are shaking.
I am lying on the dirt ground of a desolate, wasteland.
It is soft and beckons me to rest.
I close my eyes and allow the black void to engulf me.
I allow myself to fall into the black hole.
The gravity is crushing my spine.
light is swallowed up by the invisible break in space.
I am in a bottomless abyss and I am too heavy to escape.

Someone yanks me up.
They throw me a rope and drag me up.
"Are you alright?" She asks.
I nod in a half-stupefied fashion waiting for the world to stop spinning.
More and more people materialise their chatter the background noise of their universe.
I turn back to the girl.
Her mouth makes some strange shapes I cannot decipher.
Her face contorts and twist.

The ends of her lips elevate.
She opens he mouth.
Laughter.
Loud, high pitched laughter.
Laughter that says careless joy.
I reach up and touch my face.
My cold finger feel my soft warm lips.
Their shape has changed.
It has been a while.

I laugh until my stomach hurts
And my cheeks feel numb.
Tears stream from my eyes.
My voice sounds different,
At first it is quiet and horse.
I choke on my words.
As I continue to talk it grows,
Louder,
Warm,
Confident.

I follow them.
We chatter,
The ensemble of our voices harmonise into a melody.
They act as chords in a symphony.

The land around us has transformed,
Into a fertile field of lush grass.
A river flows peacefully into the distance.
The moss feels cool on my feet.
The light dances through the trees,
As they sway gently in the wind,
Which feels cool on my face.

I continue to follow them,
Walking, talking, laughing,
And occasionally leading,
Into the unknown distance.

— The End —