I have a love-hate relationship with words.
I prefer the paintbrush to a pen.
Still, I find myself expressing my thoughts through words
Though I end up disliking 99% of the things I write.

I'm quirky and awkward.
Most people would consider me weird
To the point of crazy...
Perhaps society has given me the diagnosis of insanity.

Sometimes,
I wonder how anyone is going to
Be able to love me
When I don’t even love myself.
How can anyone look past my
Flaws when I cannot
And see the beauty behind it all?
Can someone stay even if
I am trying to keep them
Away?
Would they even want to?
Who would hold me,
Even when I am
Trying to
Break free from their grasp
And runaway?
Sometimes,
I wonder if anyone would be willing to
Break down my walls
And still
Love me anyway…

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

There is an entire world
Of mine
Waiting for another world
To combine

There is a huge list
Of to do things
But they can only fly
When I find the matching wings

There are empty diaries
To be filled
About that someone
Who would have my loneliness killed

There are journeys to be made
With romance in the air
A heart on my sleeve
Kissing away with no care

There are gifts and letters
Waiting to be found and wrote
There is a whole feeling of love
Urging to be expressed in my poems or quotes

Words are eager to be spoken
Mean and lovely ones
Those sarcastic comments
And intended puns.

There are plans
Expecting a change
There is a future
Waiting to exist in exchange

There is hope and belief
About my destiny
There is a prayer
For solving the mystery

I’m waiting patiently
And I don’t cease to live
Just need to find that one person…
In return, I have a lot to give.

-Zainab Attari

I yearn to escape.
I just want to sleep forever...
                    forget deadlines and responsibilities
                           forget right and wrong
                                 forget black and white
I'm pretty content in my dreamless sleep
Unbound by earthly desires
Empty - perhaps?
                        But at the same time Free**(?)

Fear lurks in the dark corners of my wretched soul
Brewing poison - a concoction to inject in delirium.
Strength is shattered; weak in the cold.
Shots of pain burning straight for the crematorium.

Painless, I burn
My ashes, Glory they will earn.