Ayisha Rahman

Ayisha Rahman 3d

Sick
and—tired.

****(ed)
and—fried.

Tested,
and
tried.

🔩🪛

Ayisha Rahman 4d

He’s not
meant
for
      this,
for
      that,

                               for you.

Instead,
he’s meant
       for
      that,
for
      this,

      but
                  not
                                     for you.

If he
wanted to,
then he ****
would.

****
—would've
done
            it
                  for
                            her.

5d

n

l o n g i n g.

I've always been a little selfish,
a little spineless,
a little reckless.

I'll use anything as an excuse.
An excuse for the lack of -

l o n g i n g.

God, I wish I could change things.

Ripping off- each bandaid,
salting every wound.

God, I wish there was another option.

I am closing all the doors.
I am pouring gasoline.

God, I am so sorry.

I've always been -
a little mindless.
Always shown -
a little too much kindness.

I've just never felt so flightless,
I don't really feel like -
I should fight this.

I long to be just -
a little bit dramatic.

Ayisha Rahman 5d

You Know That Feeling?

You know,
that feeling
when you like a person—
and the person likes you back?

Blissfully
coincidentally.

You know,
this feeling
when a person likes you
and you somehow,
like them back?

Ignorantly
conveniently.

Reciprocally;
reproachable.

🪞

I wrote this while reflecting on mutual vs. circumstantial reciprocation between two people, which is often conditional on one’s self(ish)-interest.

_________

© Ayisha Rahman, 2024

#loverecriprocation

Ayisha Rahman 5d

Cookin’ Your Roadkill.

Pour couple drops
of apple cider vinegar,
onto the juicy
and plumpy
fresh meat.

Apple cider,
balsamic.

Anything
that could
wash away
—the taste.

🥩

Another perspective of pouring salt on open wound. Instead of running away from your past, you acknowledge.. cook, and eat them.

Extended version of this poem has been performed at Sama-Sama Alternative Art Festival, 2010.

_________

© Ayisha Rahman, 2010

Ayisha Rahman 6d

Therapist

You know you need a therapist
—when you start
writing
again.

Ayisha Rahman Nov 5

Laced-up.

She—
torn up,
locked up,
showed up,
glowed-up,
glazed-up,
laced-up
the corset
that chokes
like a fauxly demure
pink tourniquet,
puppet

she is,
she was,
she’s been.

⛓️
🎀

#prisonorfreedom