have you ever been wondering
how death tastes
right now?

Just a cut,
Just a scratch.
It wouldn't hurt,
It wouldn't last;

It would fade,
Fade into blue;
The colour of sadness,
The colour of you.

Why do we crave so many things
though they leave us unsatisfied
and send us out again for ephemeral
seconds of vanishing gratification?

Is it an absence of essential qualities
that makes us feel unfinished?
Do we indeed believe that more is better,
restlessly chasing for the shiniest of all?

We seem to be obsessed with filling
all the empty spaces in our house of life
with things
barely a place left for ourselves
to comfortably lounge and contemplate
and
    maybe
find the missing elements
waiting
    to be found
    within
and not without

Yesterday
In pain
My sister danced
And my mother laughed
But I was crying...

دیروز
در درد
خواهرم می رقصید
و مادرم می خندید
...اما من گریه می کردم

She was in love with some one who made her happy
But constantly hurt her unknowingly

                                           *The question of 'when' always brought up
                                                                ­  on the cruelest game of nature
                                                                ­                                        Waiting,
                ­                           To sit idle for the inevitable was the torture
                                                     And I didn't want to wait in patience,
                                                                ­         for the pain to seep inside
                                                          ­                                  Love was great,
                                                          ­                                          It was nice,
                                                           ­                 But nothing lasts forever
                                         Though he never asked for forever from her,
                                                            ­            Only time and the present

*Looking down at her phone,
She began to type a short response,
A lie
She typed with a heavy heart, "I'm fine"