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Ani Naser Apr 2018
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i am rubber, i am glue
i feel nothing, i feel blue
hi, i’m [       ], who are you?
fighting fire with fire but where is the fire?
just charred husks of what once was and what could have been
just emptiness, memories that i can’t remember
emotions i can no longer feel
sharp corners and fine points turned to dull nothings
wishing to be whispered sweet nothings
wishing for the sweet and wishing for the nothing
everybody loves me
faces and smiles turn into pictures of stock
if you knew me like i knew me you wouldn’t love me
maybe i’m not upset that they don’t love me or that they don’t care
maybe i’m upset because they do
how do you love [       ]?
how do you worry about and talk about [       ]?
how do you look at [       ] and feel something?
i wish i could feel the emotions you do
concern for my well-being
worry and panic because i lose myself
maybe you do love me
maybe i don’t want you to love me
calling myself names to evoke a response
words go through me because there’s nothing to stick to
i’m not rubber, i’m not glue
bounce off what and stick to who?
Ani Naser Apr 2018
a lover, a fight, mistakes oh so bitter
she disappears, taking the light with her
in the dark for six months until she comes back
brings back the light, brings back those eyes of “i knew”
bathed in light a week or few
a lover [again], alert as an owl
a fight [again], i call her foul
she leaves, and this time i remark
now i have the light, she recedes into the dark
Ani Naser Apr 2018
flower
honestly it’s just plant genitals
break you down into what you are
and what are you?
a sum of parts
some petals some thorns
holding onto your stem
letting your thorns bite through my palm
my skin punctured
my blood seeping
just so i can be close to the petals
i feel it all
i grasp tighter
hoping
hoping that i can keep feeling until i can’t feel it again
hoping that i can feel again
maybe i need to be hurt to appreciate love
maybe i need the thorns to get your petals
and i never got your petals
break you down into what you are
and what are you?
a sum of parts
some thorns
break me down into what i am
and what am i?
a sum of parts
and a bleeding hand
Ani Naser Jul 2018
She looks at the room in front of her
Students stare back
Neatly arranged in rows
The projector faces her but
She can't help but project on the students facing her
What they would look like in fear
Faces ****** and scarred
The horror of a shooter
The pain of what's lost
The projector faces her but
She can't help but project on these neatly arranged desks
What they would look like empty.

— The End —