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Nov 2020 · 251
mk Nov 2020
thank you for sharing
this time and space
with me
people die all the time.
Aug 2020 · 405
learning to say goodbye
mk Aug 2020
it was never the beginnings which frightened me
nor the ends (they were almost a breath of fresh air)

it was the middle
the chaos and the panic
the uncertainty and the fear

the idea that this could be forever, or no longer, or sometime, or tomorrow

the middle with the lull
the dull, the calm
the quiet, the serene

i am waiting for the other shoe to drop

a pebble in the ocean, you barely hear it
but it falls all the same

the middle with the muddy puddles
the light rain
the thunderstorm

the beginnings- the light
the end- the dark
the in-between - muggy, opaque,

anything could happen.
Jul 2020 · 338
he never learnt how to fly
mk Jul 2020
i bought a bird in a cage
with the intention to set it free
i hung the cage on the tree
and opened the door wide

the bird looked at me
and did not move
i sat there, it sat there
we sat there

for hours

the wind came in and out
bugs went in and out
the cage swung
the bird waited

it did not move

i coaxed it out
with promises of berries and leaves

it left the cage
and sat on the floor
still it did not move
it sat on the floor

and waited
i waited
it waited
we waited

the crows gathered
circling the little bird
waiting for me to leave
so they could seize the opportunity

but i waited
it waited
they waited
we waited

the bird hopped
it hid in bushes
it climbed on a branch
it looked at me
still it did not fly

it began to get dark
the crows got closer
it was time for dinner
for me
for it
for them

the bird looked at me
coaxed me with fear and love
to let it back in the cage

i let it go back
i closed the door

it was safe
it was still
it was home

he had never learnt how to fly
Apr 2020 · 183
mk Apr 2020
Home is not welcoming.
Home does not want me here;
It allows me to live under its roof but
It will not let me forget.

Home is shame;
It is fear and guilt and regret.
It is the sound of
“You could do better”
“You are not enough”

Home stays still
It tells you to stay with it
In a way that your body won’t allow
You are squirming in place
About to burst, staying still.

Home has changed
It wasn’t always like this
It has silenced;
Poisoned our roots
And cut our wings.

Home is Home.
Your place of return.
It is safe under here
Protecting you from
The Outside World.
unrecognizable places
unfamiliar faces
this is terrifying.
Apr 2020 · 213
mk Apr 2020
i'm tracing my history and i realize that it all adds up

always being told that i'm crazy but
they never had all the pieces to the puzzle and
i didn't know that i did either but
i found some lying in the back room and
i put it together so that the puzzle was complete and
it all makes sense

i'm tracing my history and i realize that it all adds up
my mom always told me:
"tootey logon ki tooti kahaaniyaan"
which translates to
"broken people's broken stories"
and today i realize
where my cracks were

it is good to know
even if they can't be fixed
or healed or
filled with gold
at least i know
when i will flinch
where the cuts are open
where the pieces are
so sharp that they will
draw blood
upon a single touch
Apr 2020 · 166
s i l e n c e
mk Apr 2020
the dogs bark
you tell me to silence them

the birds sing
you tell me to silence them

the wind yowls
you tell me to silence it

the earth cries
you tell me to silence it
mk Apr 2020
new york

another life
that could be mine
Apr 2020 · 138
the dullness
mk Apr 2020
i write
but not really

i'm a poet
but not really

somewhere between broken hearts
and putting them back together
i forgot how to pick up the pen

i was so busy piecing myself back together that
i forgot how to put pieces of a sentence together

it doesn't hurt to write and
i want to scream but
there is a calm dull throbbing silence

i write
but not really

i'm a poet
but not really

i think you have to bleed to write
i stopped bleeding when i ran out of blood
i think you have to cry to write
i stopped crying when i ran out of tears

sometimes i wish i was broken again
because this silence isn't much better and
screaming felt good and
not having the words feels worse.

you have to be in touch with your emotions to write poetry
i am not in touch with my emotions

i write
but not really

i'm a poet
but not really
half human; whole silence
Feb 2020 · 181
the state forbids
mk Feb 2020
there is poverty
in the
smell of ***.

a hidden guilt: shame.

***** towels
10 rupee soap.

tissues in the trashcan.

we cannot afford
the sterilization
of intimacy.

cannot clean nor claim our space.
roam room to room;
poverty to poverty.

carrying our stench
and shame.
Feb 2020 · 143
another you/another me
mk Feb 2020
i am not grieving
nor yearning
or moping
i am not crippling
by the weight of
the thought of

but i miss knowing you.

i miss knowing what time
you'd wake up and what time
you have class and what time
you will call your mother because
she is traveling to a different country
& misses you dearly.

i miss knowing what's on your mind
at any given time
& bumping into you in the bathroom
because our temporal rhythms are
in sync.

and the nights you missed her
bottle of ***** in hand
(the cheap kind,
you were never one to indulge)
your voice shakes but
no tears &
you're all fears and
i miss knowing exactly what you're about to say.

the time we stayed up till 3
the day you told me you cared for me
not love though, you'd never throw that around
maybe love though, just not the romantic kind

i miss knowing you
your smell
the blood on your jacket
the cut on your knee

i miss knowing you
your cough
a sniffle
the way you laughed with me

i miss knowing you
having you around

i'm not broken without you
i am not in grief
nor misery

but i wish
i knew you
and you still
knew me.
another time
another place
Nov 2019 · 233
mk Nov 2019
sometimes the distance doesn't make sense
and i find myself wondering: if i walk down this road forever, would i eventually find you?

in my mind's eye, you are near.

we're talking on the phone and
your voice plays tricks on my understanding
of the physics of distance and time and space
one step away, or a continent
and how far is a continent, really?
if i sit on the bus in front of me, will it drop me off next to you?

you say we share the same moon but
does that mean we breathe the same air and
are you really that far when
you feel so near?
but woah plane tickets cost thousands of dollars and this isn't going to work out
Oct 2019 · 270
mk Oct 2019
I believe Home moves on;
without you, if it must.
And you find that when you try to return Home,
Home has changed,
Or it has grown.
Or it has moved out,
just like you did.
Apr 2019 · 397
to love a woman
mk Apr 2019
i want to reach out and touch her hand
her hair is dyed pink but the blonde streaks show
her body is awkward and her skin is burnt at the shoulder
straps where she forgot to put sun block
and i want to reach out and feel her skin

there is a comfort in the familiar
we love what we know
and there is nothing more lovely
than knowing what she is because
it is what i am and i feel like i know
what will bring her joy and what will
bring her pain and there's something
so comforting about knowing that
her history is one of violence and pain but
she is of love and of kindness and
purity is over-rated but her heart is so

the history of man is ****** but
the history of woman is resilience.

how long i have admired the shape of
her body and it has taught me to love
my own.
i do not want to reduce my sisters to a
body or a touch because they are strong
and wild and honest and kind and there
is depth to them beyond being a kiss on
the lips and a stroll in the park.
i have such respect and longing for the
touch of kindness, one who has seen the war,
fights it now and fights it forever, but
loves you as if you were made of flowers.
she is made of flowers-
and iron and steel-
and blankets and cups of hot chocolate-
and truth and warships.

the touch of a man is pleasurable
but the touch of a woman is fulfilling.

looking at her now, i wonder if it is strange
to love her as a sister- as a warrior- as a leader
and to still love her as a lover- as a muse- as a body
to love a woman is to love a nation.
to love a woman is to love a war.
to love a woman is to love love.
to love a woman is to love yourself.
words don't do this justice.
mk Jan 2019
if i hold my silence now
i'll regret it forever
if i hold my regrets now
i'll stay silent forever.

you dated a brown girl
only to marry a white girl.

tell me how to separate
these wounds from my
colonial scars.
i'm still here,
trying to make it
in a world that wasn't made for me.

you fell in love with a brown girl
only to marry a white girl.

tell me how to feel like
i wasn't your taste test
i wasn't your "cultural experience"
i know you fell in love with me
you learnt my language
you memorized my tongue
but the night was
way too young.

will you give your child an "ethnic" name?
will your daughter have my name?
or was i just one of your
growing pains.

i'm just like my mother
falling for the ******
(i'd let you destroy me,
Jan 2019 · 279
white girl from virginia
mk Jan 2019
you say you're dating a
"white girl from virginia"
and I laugh.

it's too much to ask
that you give me a chance
and i don't want to beg.

let's forget that we stay up
all night talking
we're on our way to
saving the world together.

let's forget that you go on hikes
with my dad and i have tea
with your mom.

let's forget that your name makes
my blood slow down a little
it's the kind of love which makes you
feel like you're at home.

i don't know if you ever loved me
i just know that i've always loved you.

maybe my skin was too brown
my name was too ethnic
maybe i just wasn't the right fit.

i hope you love her the way i do
silently, heavily, kindly.
if you love him, let him go.

- i don't want to write an anthology about you -
Jan 2019 · 1.0k
the womb inside me
mk Jan 2019
it's not your baby
in the womb i carry
i need your forgiveness

we made no commitments
you do not claim me as yours
but i need your forgiveness

this is what i dream of
on an unsuspecting night
the child of my husband
in the womb in my body
and my mouth forming the words
'i'm sorry'

i have never touched your skin
and i do not think you ever loved me
but betrayal comes in shades
and i feel ashamed to let myself
be without your company

there is a sense of destruction
buried inside my veins
from the absence of you

there are things greater than love

which bind us together and i fear
such binding

it makes my ground shake when i catch
a ray of color which matches your eyes
flushed in the green of the grass
or the blue of the sky

i don't know when it happened, but it did
you found a little home for yourself
within the confines of my mind and
i miss when you were around

it hurts to see you and i don't want to feel you

because the distance and the rain
the deep guilt and the pain
the fact that you feel nothing
you will feel nothing
i fear

my love for you finds itself
manifesting in instances extra-ordinary
my ache for you is buried within knowing that there is another inside the womb of me
and can't get rid of the voice saying;
this isn't how it was supposed to be.
Dec 2018 · 436
space in my heart
mk Dec 2018
there were so many pains
i hid you down there, down under
i thought we'd figured out the pain
we'd moved past the hurt
but i'm on a flight to another town
and its snowing and im floating
i never had the heart to delete
your music from my phone
and im trying to listen a little harder
so that i can hear your voice louder
than the music which envelops it
i want to hold you close to my heart
you are a black hole and i made it big
i left you behind when i moved up
but running forward doesn't mean you don't miss what you left behind
the plane is dark because the snow is heavy and white
i can hear your voice whisper
"hold on, i still need you"
and a tear runs down my cheek
the funny thing about pain is
sometimes the big things don't hurt as bad as the little ones
and sometimes new pains don't sting as bad as old injuries
they say your first always hurts more than your last
but my last ****** me up so bad i didn't think my heart had space for you anymore
i will always have space for you
we will never be, and i don't wish for us to have been
but I'd like one more late evening:
driving around in your car, singing along to eden, screaming at the top of our lungs at the beach
you live inside of me, in a place that cannot be touched, cannot be washed
there are things greater in life than love.
Nov 2018 · 299
mk Nov 2018
i found myself smiling in bed. beads of sweat dripping down my forehead and an exhaustion traveling in my veins. my body small, heavy, sunken into the mattress pad. i found myself smiling at the feeling of being all-consumed by the fever. i could not move my body, i could only wait till the fever broke. there was nothing more i could do, there was nothing more i could be expected to do. the blinds were shut but i could tell that the sun was near-setting. the reddish glow, almost like someone had put a wash cloth on top of a lamp: scattered, dim, warm. i had been in and out of sleep all day. i stayed in bed through breakfast, through lunch, through dinner. i was not hungry: i swallowed my painkillers and sipped on water. i was allowed to do this. i was allowed to skip meals, lay in bed, stare at the walls. i was allowed to let loud noises bother me, cry if i felt uncomfortable, i was allowed to sink into the mattress pad without a moment of guilt. my laptop lay on the table infront of me: there was a world of work out there but for now, i didn't have to be a part of it. i clung to these moments of in-between like a breath of fresh oxygen. i pushed all the feelings of unease to the back of my mind and let myself fall. i let myself fall. for now, for here, i could be me with an excuse: i was sick.

you walk around everyday doing what you're supposed to be doing. you're falling apart but you're sending emails. you're mentally fractured but you go to class, you sit through those meetings. you do what needs to be done. you eat a meal, you work out at the gym. you mold yourself into the caricature of your age group, gender, race. you become the person that makes sense to their eyes. it doesn't matter how much is wrong on the inside; but when a fever spreads across your skin and your body is forced to break: you can stop, you can breathe, you can be.
Nov 2018 · 284
clean up after your messes
mk Nov 2018
wouldn't do you ***** like that
leave you in the cold and rain
wouldn't do you ***** like that
to drown in your own pain
I know they say you can't save anyone
or put bandaids on bullet holes
but better to be a bandaid than a bystander
or to shoot me in the first place
wouldn't do you ***** like that
i know i can't fix you but i tried
you can't **** someone up this bad and walk away
accountability is dead; privilege blooms
i wish i were as entitled as you.
Oct 2018 · 367
the death of a hero
mk Oct 2018
sitting on my bed
i asked you to show you your world
i had a flight to catch at 7am
but we stayed up till 3
going through memories on your phone
like your ex-girlfriend who you
broke up with because you didn't
want her to suffer by your side
and your sisters who are closer
to your dad than you'll ever be
your mom loves you so much
she calls you her entire world
i understand why
i revolve around you, too.
remember that night
under the blanket and stars?
you asked me if i had ever been in love
i said i was still trying to figure it out
but if love means that breath that got
stuck in my throat when your lips
came too close
or the feeling when you held out a hand
to help me climb on top of a roof
we weren't supposed to be on
hours after our plane landed
or when you carried me on your back
all the way back to my bed
the night i turned eighteen
if love is feeling rough around the edges
but full of all the light in the world
then i've been in love all along
but your lips never came close enough
and your arms let me go
tonight i mourn-
the death of a hero.
mk Jul 2018
i'm tiptoeing around the fine lines
holding my breath, silently
my fingers trace the boundaries
i am too close for comfort
circling the forbidden with my fingertips
i am so close to falling in love with you

in the sand, with a stick
you draw a line to keep us apart
but the sun burns too strong
to keep me from you
i test the water with my feet
too hot, too cold; just right
i am so close to falling in love with you
mk Jun 2018
so much has changed
but your name still rings purple.


the breakups, the makeups
the pregnancy scares
the movies, the makeouts
the tears and the fear
we both moved to a new country
further away than before
started new careers, new lives
more alone than before
the nights we'd stay up talking
and the days we'd spend hand in hand
then the distance
then the silence
and whispers in the air
so much has changed
and yet, nothing at all
my phone waits for your text
to ring purple and inform
me that you still have something to say
and I have a lot left to hear
your name still rings purple
reminding me that you're not here
and the phone cries for attention
my favorite color, full of memories
as the goodnight texts turned to formal
gooddays and then nothing at all
but my phone still rings purple
whenever you call.
special notifications whats uppppppppp
Jun 2018 · 839
dear (ex?)boyfriend
mk Jun 2018
dear boyfriend,
sorry for calling you my boyfriend, i'm just tired of calling you my ex, the ex, the one that broke my heart, the one that got away. so for now, for today, dear boyfriend,
i've been sorting through our memories and i found the very first necklace you gave to me. i haven't worn it yet, but it still shines. i thought you'd be interested to know that the shirt you gave me still faintly smells of you (or maybe that's in my head). i'm feeling really nauseous today and i think its because i read the letters you wrote to me and your handwriting is strange and so familiar. how your letters capitalize mid-sentence, i never quite understood. everytime i see it, i think of how your mother taught you her whole life and imagine you sitting with her and learning to read. did your mother teach you to love? mine certainly didn't. my father taught me to run, though. he taught me to run and run and run and never to look back. i'm still struggling with the second part. he taught me to never stop moving because your past is out to get you. i've been running ever since. my feet hurt and i wish you were here to hold me. but i guess love needs to take a breath, love needs a second, love needs you to freeze for a moment in time. but i never stopped running. i never stop. have you been stopping? freezing in your tracks when the memories hit you like a brick? does your heart clench in desire the way mine does? sometimes it feels like i'm running with my eyes closed and i've gotten my hair caught in spider webs. ugh, i've always hated spiders. i'm not afraid of them, but i don't enjoy their presence. i always liked the idea of having you **** them for me but honestly i think you were more freaked out by them than i was. which is kinda cute in and of itself. you were different, i mean, are different. i wonder how much has changed. i wonder how little has changed. i wonder if you're still waiting for the day the sun sets in the east. i wonder if you're still waiting for me.

your (ex?) girlfriend
(and forever soulmate).
Jun 2018 · 706
past year three
mk Jun 2018
woolen fleece
and bruised knees
i'm sitting here
re-watching our
favorite movies
remember the different
kinds of kisses
and the flavors
of your touch
i miss you
a little too much
three years, one month and a day.
Jun 2018 · 427
mk Jun 2018
the thing with home being a person is that home can always choose to walk away.
the closer i come, the farther you are.
Jun 2018 · 382
growing pains
mk Jun 2018
i spray your perfume on my wrist
rub them together, hoping for the best
i see my veins swell as it crawls up my arm
tattooing your name through my bloodstream
my body is having an allergic reaction
to the smell of you, and i'm holding on
remember the smell of your skin that day
mid-afternoon, hidden away
i remember the first time i touched your chest
after that, i forget the rest
these memories are crawling on me like scars
and i rush to put my wrist under water
but its too late
or maybe its fate
i'm tattooed with the thought of you
my blood runs all shades of grey
my heart slows down, ready to take me away
in a trance, back in your arms
and the feeling of your lips on mine
back to those days when everything was alright
and home wasn't confined to a spray of a perfume
or the scent of the past
these days it seems home grows further
every time i get closer
احبك ,حبيبي
mk Jun 2018
i ran and i ran and i ran
three countries away
three continents over
i ran so that i didn't have to wake up
and take a shower in the same shower
get dressed in the same clothes
smell that same **** perfume
all laced with memories of you
i ran so far that i managed to forget who i was
managed to forget that it wasn't just my addiction to pain that kept us together
it was all those memories and laughs
and suddenly the taste of your lips
doesn't seem too distant when i still see your deodorant on my shelf
when i see our ticket stubs on my wall
when i have the wrapper from the chewing gum i chewed before kissing you stuck to my cork board like a ticking time bomb
i ran so far that i forgot what it felt like to love you and suddenly i'm back in my own skin begging you to love me again
but you're full of anger
and you're full of hate
i'm full of fear
and i'm scared of fate
my purse is still the same one you held for me
my neck is still the same one you kissed
my wrist smells of the perfume i put on before our first date
there are seventeen boxes of hershey's drops on my bookshelf
each one shared or gifted by you
the flowers from my garden
you picked
are crumbled
but fresh, scattered on my bed
i ran three countries away
i ran three continents over
to escape from a love
that i don't even want to get over
maybe it's best to never return home at all
Jun 2018 · 493
mk Jun 2018
the first holiday is the hardest
the first morning is the hardest
the first meal is the hardest
the first bath is the hardest
the first illness is the hardest
the first joy is the hardest
the first ocean trip is the hardest
the first broken wrist is the hardest
the first loss is the hardest
the first hurt is the hardest
the first love is the hardest
the first hate is the hardest

the second is too
(without you).
they say the first everything is the hardest after a relationship, but seconds **** too lol
Jun 2018 · 431
mk Jun 2018
somewhere between i miss you and i'll leave you
somewhere between you love me and you hate me
somewhere between the oceans and the air
somewhere between ****** and self-sacrifice
we're somewhere between the years and the memories
somewhere between let's start over and let's begin
somewhere between let it end and let it end
somewhere between i love you and you're still mine
somewhere between i'm killing it and i'm not fine
somewhere between come home and take me home
we're somewhere between the ages and the past
somewhere between the first and the last
they say the first year is always the hardest
but i'm still somewhere between ecstasy and death
do you want to start over? or just let it end?
mk Jun 2018
i thought i was starving for home
the smell of the soul and the taste of the air
i thought my hunger was for all that sunshine
the familiar roads, the wind in my hair
but i sit on this ground that i have lived on before
waiting on home to accept me once again
loneliness and betrayal, this land is empty
hollowness and silence, there is no love here
i sit here in my nothingness and count the black sky
this isn't home
this can't be home

(i miss you).
Jun 2018 · 699
do you remember my name?
mk Jun 2018
i wonder if my name dances round and round in your head like a mantra
i wonder if it pops up in the middle of conversations, if you hear the syllables like a call to prayer
i wonder if it makes you wish you were dead
no; i wonder if it makes you wish i were dead
i wonder if you wake up in the morning and for a quick second you can't remember why you hurt
then loud and clear it shrills, ringing in your head, a reminder of your destruction
i wonder if they ask you why you look so burnt
i wonder if my name whispers itself into your ear but you stay silent
i wonder if it laughs when they tell you that love is the answer
i wonder if it cries when they tell you that love is the devil
do you stand straight like a soldier being called on to the battlefield
when you hear something that rhymes with it
or do you crawl into a hole within yourself and let the moment pass?
does it lull you to sleep late at night when the demons play
does it scream in your head when you're somewhere between life and death?
do you remember my name, my love? do you remember it soft, loud, and alive? do you remember my name, my love, do you remember it well? do you remember my name, my love, because it remembers you. do you remember my name, my love, because it has not forgotten you.
the end of an era, the start of the summer
Jun 2018 · 631
time isn't coming back
mk Jun 2018
give me a first time once again
give me a first shot at love again
give me a first before i relive my last
give me a present instead of giving me a past
طلع البدر علينا
mk Jun 2018
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
the love inside me is bubbling
it is rage on a californian summer day
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
she is holding his hand
and he is touching her cheeks
he is tall and fair and quiet
he is what you were not
he is not you
but my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
i want to tell her to run from love
because it ends up in pain
i want her to teach me how to
fall in love again
i want her to tell me
how it felt when they first kissed
i want to know if it felt as mystical
as magical
as terrifying as us
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
because everytime i see them
i think of you and me
dark and so much taller than me
speaking in tongues all native to me
silences that spoke more than words
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
they have gotten what i have not
they are living what i will not
the death of us is the beginning of them
my best friend has a boyfriend
and i want to scream
this life is beautiful
but without you, thats hard to see.
May 2018 · 646
what a beautiful day
mk May 2018
waking up this morning
to inhale and realize
you haven't tasted air this fresh
in so long
your starved lungs gasp
and they expand
in relief and worship
your skin feels the sun rays
and you realize that the
trees have grown so tall
they are tapping at your windows
and the sunrays
are playing hide and seek
in between
waking up this morning
to realize that the sky
is a new shade of blue
with some yellow, some purple
a whole lot of orange
wondering why people wait on rainbows
when skies like these exist
there is a freshness in the air
there is a jump in my step
has that engraved pathway always been so beautiful
have those flowers always been so bright?
i notice the freckles on my roommates cheeks
i notice how red and grand the hair of the girl in my anthropology class shines
i notice that my glasses are such a lovely shape
and my eyes look so big and brown and light and deep
my curls are so warm to me, they treat me so well
and the color orange kisses my golden skin
waking up this morning
to inhale and realize
today is a beautiful day;
this is a beautiful life
and i am doing better than just okay.
~ spring vibes ~

wake up & realize i missed a few seasons in sadness
mk May 2018

several skies
and a million moons away
twinkling eyes
wishing you would stay

there is no glamor in sadness
there is no mercy in pain
there is no kindness in loneliness
there is no pride in shame

there are silver tears
there are sugar-coated fears
there is great magic in the worlds
we create for ourselves

this is a mood
May 2018 · 639
the night of thirty days
mk May 2018
the night is bright
the moon is out
the devils are chained
the fast begins
ramadan mubarak, my lovelies.
mk May 2018
who are you when you are no one to anyone?
when your relationships cannot defend themselves
when the night closes in and you are not a daughter,
not a sister, not a friend, not a mother, not a lover.

who are you when your achievements sink into the ground
when your trophies and medals and memories of conquer
melt into ash on the floor, swept away by the breeze.

who are you when you have no first name, no last name
when you cannot show a form of identification
no passport, no student ID, no document that can say
look, this is me, this is who i am, this is my identity.

who are you when no one remembers you?
when you are not even a memory of those you once loved
of those you still love; when no one remembers the years or the hours
you spent with them, talked to them, touched them- who are you?

who are you when you are no one to anyone?
not even yourself.
when the world cannot speak for you
when the world cannot remember you
who are you when you have nothing left;
no one left.
who are you,
when you are no one?
~ in the middle of an identity crisis ~
May 2018 · 832
i wronged you.
mk May 2018
we are past apologies
we are past 'new starts'
with flesh baring scars
and a bloodied heart
there's something i have to say

i wronged you

you stuck by me
never once lifted
your power above me.
i was showered with
bliss- material, or not.
your tshirts, your heart
it was all mine.

i wronged you

you stuck by me
stood up for me
when the world
cracked down its whip
you lifted me up from
the ground that bore
nothing but pain for me.

i wronged you

you stuck by me
when i became the devil
i had been running from
all my life.
i feared my reflection
in the mirror but you
kissed my lips everyday.

i wronged you

you stuck by me
i did not stick by you
for you, it was about us.
for me, it was about me.
i've been stuck in myself
all along.

untangling these memories
and wishing i could make amends
going back to that summer
for which i'd always pray never to end.

we are past apologies
we are past 'new starts'
with flesh baring scars
and a bloodied heart
there's something i have to say:
*i wronged you.
لگتا ہے کچھ نہیں بچا
May 2018 · 523
paper masks
mk May 2018
my tears are getting my paper mask soggy
too close for comfort, it sticks to me
i've tried so hard to find a mask that fits
but i end up with safety scissors and colored paper
cutting and crafting my own face for the day
wake up, brush your teeth, cut a fresh mask
it gets wet and torn by the end of the day
you throw it away
start all over again
once, my paper mask flew away
a flush of pink and a dash of red
what do you use to cover up
the colors that speak so loud?
grow up, grow into the mask you made
grow up, grow into that role you play
don't tell him you miss him
don't tell her you hurt so much
the masks smile and they flutter
in the rain, in the fall
one day, you realize
you don't know yourself at all.

my paper mask never fails me.
things get better, only to get worse.
Apr 2018 · 471
somewhere in the world
mk Apr 2018
somewhere in the world:

somewhere in the world:

somewhere in the world:

somewhere in the world:
so many things can happen on april fifteenth.
mk Apr 2018
my chest heaves and i ache to feel the blood pump through my veins. i feel as if i am withering away under the weight of the world. it is as if someone has cut me from the stem to decorate me in their vase, but how long can i stay bright red when you have hidden me from the sun and rain? my nails scratch the surface of my blue-tinged arms and i feel nothing. this has become a common theme: i feel nothing. it is, perhaps, better than feeling the longing for survival. or perhaps i'd rather feel the pain and the pulse. this is no longer a matter of the mind and the heart- this is a matter of life and death.
wilting away, withering away, wasting away.
~ let's drive to the sunset & jump in the fire ~
mk Apr 2018
i'm realizing that i didn't fight hard enough for you. i got so caught up in fighting you, that i forgot to fight for you. looking back, the stuff we argued on was not worth the energy or the love lost. i think we were both a little...warm blooded. everything we did, we did with passion. which, of course, translated into the fights of fire and flames. in any case, what are you wearing today? it's strange to think about you wearing outfits that i haven't touched, seen, worn. for old times sake, why don't you wear the navy blue shirt that i dropped garlic-butter on. man, i nearly **** myself because i thought i'd stained your favorite shirt. but you laughed. and i nervously laughed too. i'm glad the stain came out in the end. i rocked that shirt better than you did anyway, hehe.
there's a reason *** has an "ex" in it- that's one of the things i miss most.
Apr 2018 · 969
success is a lonely road
mk Apr 2018
i have dreams. i have a lot of dreams. i have things i want to achieve and goals i've worked my whole life towards. and i've done a pretty okay job of achieving a lot of things i put my mind to and my heart in. but when i'm standing up there on stage i look out into a crowd of strangers. i search for familiarity but i'm met with faces that i don't recognize, hands that come together to clap for me but hearts that are cold. there is no joy when there is no joy shared. there is no success if there is no success shared. i search the crowds and peer down from the mountain but you are not there. i traveled years to reach here but lost my companions on the way. they say it is lonely on the top, they forget to tell you that it is lonelier on the way down. there is no going back.
my happiness is simply collateral damage
Apr 2018 · 10.6k
texts i never sent you (ii)
mk Apr 2018
i am in a haze today. it is cloudy and beautiful outside. it is also pressing down on my chest and i struggle for air. i wore your shirt to bed last night and it helped steady my oxygen supply. i wish you were here to say my name and speak to me in my native tongue to remind who i am and where i've come from. i'm forgetting everything, slowly. recreating yourself is only good when you haven't done it five thousand times over. i just want to be me now. but how do i become me if there is no you? pick me up from the library and walk me to class. hold my hand and tell me that you will stay with me no matter how grey the sky is or how cold my fingers feel.
Apr 2018 · 509
texts i never sent you (i)
mk Apr 2018
today was a good day. i went to see the house i'm going to be living in next year. they have co-ed rooming, and i told my roommate that i wish i could have roomed with you instead. she wasn't hurt by it, she knows that you're always on the back of my mind. the rooms were nice, not too big but not too small. i think we would have been great roommates. anyways, i hope your day went well too. i know the weather's been getting warmer- do you remember the summer before last? that summer heat brought out the best (and the worst) in us. and when the electricity went out in the middle of the night and the room went dark in the midst of the summer heat. you told me not to worry because you know i'm afraid of the dark. i wasn't worried. i had you. the only thing worse than being single is not being yours.
this is going to be a series- i can feel it coming
Apr 2018 · 306
let's talk mixed signals
mk Apr 2018
I want to call you and tell you I'm not okay. I don't want your sympathy. maybe all I'm looking for is your love. I want to tell and scream telling you its never been this bad before and I fear for my sanity. I want to tell you to cut the ******* and just come back already because you know it's always me and you and it's always going to be me and you ever since we met that one spring day in '15. I want to tell you that I remember you every time I feel happy and everytime I feel the need to cry. I want to call you and tell you to come back.

I want to call you and tell you I've never been better. I want to tell you that I'm eating well and working out. I'm doing great in all my classes and making ***-kicking money too. I want you to know that I dont even have time for love and even if I did, ive sworn off of it because I dont need a dead weight telling me what i can and can't do. I want to scream and tell you that you couldn't break me even though I loved you with everything and made you my everything. I want to tell you that I dont need you, and I dont want you either. I want you to call you and tell you to stay away.

I won't call you and there are things I won't say. love you or hate you, I guess you're on my mind either way. that says more than words could ever say.
I want to dig your grave and set fire to the stars
mk Apr 2018

who came first
the art or the artist?

i find myself
humming to your favorite songs
and wondering if i love
the music or the person behind it.

i was never big on bollywood movies
until you asked me to watch one with you
is it the plot and the dances that i enjoy watching
or is the memories of having watched it with you?

everytime i choose an outfit to buy
i think back to the colors you liked to see me in
i end up wearing shades of white and lining my eyes with black
perhaps to look beautiful, perhaps to look beautiful for the ghost of you.

my taste in art has changed vastly
i am in love with the culture, color and music
of the east and it makes me wonder
whether it is the brown skin of the people
or the brown skin of you
that has left its impression on me.

who came first
the art or the artist?

who came first
the love or the beloved?

who came first
me or you?

sometimes it feels as if you created me.
Apr 2018 · 443
the in-between
mk Apr 2018
it is in the in betweens
when your memory is
most real to me.
airplanes and 3AMs
in moments when i forget
who i really am.

cue confusion, cue pain
cue the struggle to remember
where i am and when i came.

my hands shake and i itch to
press the button with your name
i need to tell you that i am once again
in the in-between
asking (begging) you to
take me back as your queen.
i guess, though, you wouldn't break your queen in the backseat.
mk Mar 2018
he tells me he'll buy me a white house
with a picket fence and i laugh because
it sounds so absurd to me
why would anyone want to live in
this plastic world of despair
i mean, maybe i'm judging it too hard
but i just can't see myself
driving a mini-van with two kids
crying in the backseat complaining
and calling me "mom" as if they their
mother-tongue was not Urdu
i can't do soccer games and ballet lessons
or wait every night at 8PM to have a
family dinner
i am not anyone's wife in an apron
and there is nothing wrong with choosing
the american dream
just that its a nightmare for me
i want to finger paint the house a
million shades of rainbow
i want to tie a braid in my hair
and lie under the sun
let it kiss me until i'm brown
and free.
i want my children to blast
bollywood and dance with me
no choreography, just love
i want a husband who falls in love
with my henna covered hands and
the way i smell of the sea
i can't see myself settling to a world
where everything looks just the same
or a man who loves me in a clean,
innocent way
i know this sounds stupid and i'm not
one for crazy romance but
laughing during *** and screaming during fights
is something that feels more than alright
i like the edge and the stability in knowing
that you're not going anywhere, we're going
i want my children to climb on their father's back
and tickle him until he cries
i want them to paint his nails
and tie his hair in little ponytails
i want them to go to the beach and not worry
about getting sand in between their toes
i want them to wake up in the morning
with their messy hair and lopsided smiles
i want them to run around the house
the way their parents did
chasing each other only to fall
into each other's arms.
he makes a seven figure salary and i said goodbye.
mk Mar 2018
lesson 1: boys, boys, boys.*

you are too little to care about these boys. i know they seem as if they are full of good intentions and bad habits but that's exactly what you're going to become if you prioritize them: another bad habit. these boys aren't evil, simply misguided in a world where they are taught that cruelty is survival and they are kings. do not trust them. do not love them. and if you find yourself falling in love, like you did for the first time with straight hair and brown eyes, let that love pour over you and under you but do not act on it. do not smile when you catch his eye. do not laugh when his joke is not funny. do not let your body curve to fit his because let me tell you: he likes skinny girls anyways. these boys are looking for love in all the wrong places- they did not have mothers who cared or dads who validated them so they look towards you. you are a balm to cure their wounds. you will try and try again to fix them until you realize that the burns on their bodies were caused by the fires they started. these fires will consume you. and you will find yourself freshening their bandages while you are burning to ash. crushes and a little love here and there are fine, the way you giggled when the 9th grade boys winked at your 6th grade self was okay. but going out for coffee with a 24 year old man when you were 12 is not. do not mistake his kindness for love. do not, do not for one second believe that he cares for you. because you will get hurt. and he will not be sorry. you still believe soulmates exist and that's okay. honestly, i'm not so sure right now but i don't see any harm in believing that there is someone out there who loves you in your entirety. i think i may have met a soulmate in this lifetime. he left bruises on my skin and scars in my mind. this is not to scare you, love is not all ugly, but it gets ugly real fast. do not run from love, but when the sirens go off: protect yourself. he will not protect you. neither will anyone else. love gets messy and when the house you built together goes down in flames, it is each man for himself. it is each woman for herself- do not stop in your tracks to save the burning boy who set you on flames. he is made of fire. and he keeps you warm every night with his breath on your neck but trust me, every fire dims and every night gets dark. so, little me, don't be silly. i know you want to love him with every inch of you, but if you want to say no, say no. if you change your mind or don't want to hold his hand, say no. if you want to go home, say so. if you want him to leave you be, let him know. it is okay to not want him all the time. it is okay to set boundaries and if you do, one day, choose to fall in love (you will, it's not much of a choice anyway), say a little prayer before every day asking god to bless you. pray together and pray apart. remind each other and yourselves that love is not a shackle but a choice. remind yourselves and each other that love is waking up and making that choice. and if there is a day when that choice is not good for you, choose a different path. do not stand in the way of his success. do not stand in the way of your dreams. you are a queen. and his heart is important, but so is yours. take care of him as you would yourself. but don't let it shadow over you. there have been good men in your life and bad men. there have been a lot of them and you will continue to crash into more but just know: you are no less or no more of a person because they say so. when he says you are an angel, when he calls you the devil: take it with a pinch of salt. do not twist and turn to become the caricature he spells out. and when the boy from your past calls you and tells you he still loves you, hang up the phone. the plastic knife he brought you to cut his heart is useless. and when he drives you home playing *** by eden in the car, treasure the moment, but do not dream of his lips on yours. he is past. he is not good for you. and that is more important than being in love. falling in love is overrated but when it hits you, it hits you. you just got proposed to by a phd student at stanford university. you said no. he is rich and handsome and so full of love but baby girl- that's not what you want. and that's okay. forgive yourself for not falling in love with the "right" man. forgive yourself for falling in love with the boy who tasted of spearmint and the sea. the boy who's name you never said but always stayed stuck inside your head. your first kiss was perfect. you won't regret your first time having ***. i don't know when or where you'll get married- but when it happens, i promise you, we'll be okay.
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