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2d · 70
Some Lost Tale
this house creaks
with a heaviness
tired of carrying the
weight of all the lives within it

someday i’m sure  it will
crush me in my sleep,
and my breath will be easier
to ***** out than a candle
        and so i dream, i dream of weightless things
of feathers and petals
of things with wings
—wings sprouting like plants
from the blades of my shoulder
oh, i ache with some lost tale
      of survival i do not believe in.

this house is tinted eggshell blue
and the thing with feathers
is passing through,
this house
holds me the way it holds
itself
—so weary from the sorrow,
slipping into the rubble,
clinging onto my existence
      just as one drowning man clings to another.

this is an odd poem
Aug 3 · 886
half
the only thing that keeps
away the darkness
is the light
i burn within myself.

so i  have been half flame
half smoke,
half light
half shadow,
half myself
        half someone else.  

this isn’t a way to exist;
it’s a way to survive.

Midnight Rain Jul 28
__
                           it doesn’t end does it

it does,  eventually

                            i don’t think so.
                            the falling never stops.
                            the feeling still sits in the
                            middle of me. it doesn’t      end
                            or go away.

there are some things
we can’t change.
things that are bound to be
a part of us.


                            i just wish for a little while  
                            it could
                           cease to exist entirely.


i’d still be here even if you
aren’t anymore.
whatever you leave unsaid
remains
unsaid forever and all that
you have said
is eventually lost in time.

you only share the silence,
the unsaid,
which exists when everything
else ceases to exists.
that’s sad isn’t it?

                                     no,
                                     it’s a relief
                            ————

                    there is only silence
             from whence the voice spoke
             and so
             the world above us
             resurfaces
             or perhaps, it is us that
             emerge unknowingly
             as lost conversations with the void.

Jul 18 · 158
september
Midnight Rain Jul 18
september crept up quietly
in the autumn wind
and you’re holding onto our movie
tickets
neon pink lights paint over your face
you stand with your legs crossed,
your hair up
im playing with a hair tie that isnt mine
snapping it against my wrist
like a reminder i keep forgetting;
there was an old song stuck in the back
of my head,
we’re waiting
black shoes,
maroon scarf --some words
shuffling up with the heavy air
in my head i remember this like a polaroid.
september crept up slowly that night we stood like two trees waiting for spring
           trying to fill the space between us
           with something more than just dead leaves.


september 2013
rough write up
___
on another note i miss autumn and summer has barely just started.
Jul 14 · 173
diluted
Midnight Rain Jul 14
the sky is in flames
            velvet to the touch.
in this glossed world of chaos,
            i am the three shades of blue you will never see.
there are parts of me
pulled from me.
i am a streetlight,
an old pipe,
           running water into sewers.
the dichotomy between us exists
when what plagues me cannot plague you.

there are spaces in you
vastly different from everyone else.
there are clouds of grief
sitting in your stomach
           no one else can ever stomach.
        ––yet you pulled away from you
        is still you, though slightly diluted.

our worlds are ending in different phases,
i see the sky is in flames
               velvet to the touch;
you and i are standing under the same sun
with different shadows covering our own regrets.

Jun 30 · 478
save you
Midnight Rain Jun 30
you don’t have to know what will
survive after the fire.
you just have to believe something
will.
this won’t save you
but perhaps, it will make the fire
more bearable.

May 6 · 229
Lilac
lilac skies wrap around my head
and i can barely see over the tall grass,
it tangles around me
i can’t move i tell you   

[you don’t understand
—everything around me suffocates me]

i am restless in pursuit of the sun
and perhaps, i might be lost after all.

once, in the middle of the night
my thoughts took me away
to a place so dark,
i spent seven years
swallowing my own sadness

and i struggle  
to breathe
even now

does that make sense?
somehow it’s all in my head,
so how do i explain it?

that i am in a clear field
and the grass is what i imagined.
that the sky was ruefully lilac
and the sadness is what took my breath away.

Midnight Rain Apr 21
she once told him that persimmons
    are full of grief because she misses
    something lost when she eats them.


persimmon trees were planted in the garden
after the death of his beloved.
consumed within his grief he would spend all his time
watching the trees.  
One night, while strolling through the garden
and thinking of all things departed,
he saw the persimmon trees were in bloom––
cream-colored bells draped over him
and among them a nightingale
that began to sing.

every night he would listen and
slowly lower himself towards the roots
to rest against the tree, trying to recall
all of his fading memories.

and he would dream a dream of forgotten things
until finally, he fell asleep for centuries.
and all his bones turned to dust,
there, under the persimmons.

when dawn arose some centuries ago
the first of the fruit
plummeted to the ground
and the nightingale never sang again.
Apr 14 · 124
Asleep
Midnight Rain Apr 14
why should death run after me,
i am already five different shades of scarlet.
my breath runs warm
but the grief that survived after you
still lives within me.  
                 i am that tear that somehow escaped from the soul.
the rest of me fades away as the journey continues.
what should i call such a loss, such a journey?
what i shall name that which was never named?

i am alive
but i almost die trying to exist.

i am awake
but my fate has been asleep
since i stopped remembering you.

Apr 8 · 146
Empty Rooms
someday you will know
the price of living half a life.
how it is filled with empty rooms, that have
enough floors to cover all your grief.
but no consolation for it to ever end.
it has enough walls to paint over
with white anger. blank. unending.
        unyielding. white. anger.
but what is the point of this wrath, that leaves you
starving for the kind of warmth you only ever felt in a dream.
someday you will know
that perhaps, in protecting yourself from the hurt,
you lost a lot of beautiful things and people
who came with it.

Mar 27 · 270
All This Rage
Midnight Rain Mar 27
you once told me
of your anger and sometimes
i wonder what you did with it.
did you bury it in your chest again,
let it turn everything within
you into smoke? did you ever
find a way to survive?
   i only ask because
i am burning
with things i do not understand.  
i only ask because my hands
are on fire,
and i don’t know where all this rage
is pouring from.

Mar 27 · 132
this light
Midnight Rain Mar 27
what lingers here, leaving only
its reflection?
once your memory fell through
the mirror
and escaped from my hands  like a river,
it is gold, forever now, because of it.
here, something once so dark
is asking me,
where is all this light coming from?

Mar 18 · 144
Malta
Midnight Rain Mar 18
Orange ribbons fall around me
as she unveils the fruit, her nails digging
into the speckled skin, the juice drips down to her elbows
before smudging into the ground and
the air is a citrus canticle, I am singing songs about tomorrow.

There every sunset was an orange muse,
the sun a tangerine token depressing to the navel
of the sky–
peeling its colors behind the winter clouds,
bitter–sweet in saying goodbye.

Beneath a copper veil my nails sink into my skin
and reams of four form crescent marks
in the palms of my hand;
that winter has passed into years,
and the oranges taste different here.

Feb 15 · 266
.
Midnight Rain Feb 15
.
i found a collection of old letters
between the books of your bookshelf.
stories between stories,
words clashing,
ink dried on the hands
long gone.
words, unspoken
left written
for the one to read
beneath the lonesome night.
              
some history lies open on my lap
            it knows nothing but your words,
i am silent

Feb 7 · 179
A White Doe
the night is dark again with the ink of yours eyes,
another moon passes over me in phases

a nightingale sings with its throat full of longing
somewhere under this dark are my hands holding my heart
to my chest

a softness is breaking in silence
and there was a mirror in my dreams full of you

a white doe’s eyes gazing at the hunter

Dec 2019 · 190
Fitrat
Midnight Rain Dec 2019
Ammi told me about fitrat,
the day my cat almost jumped
over the fence to catch a bird.
“why does he always do that,”
i mumbled under my breath.
“it’s in his fitrat and we can’t change that.”
i looked up surprised she heard me at all.
“Ammi, what is in a person’s fitrat?”
Ammi was quiet and then replied,

“it is a person’s nature to never be satisfied,
no matter how much he has, he always wants more.
he will spend his whole life hunting after his desire
but this is a thirst that can never
be quenched.

he is restless and dies restless.”

Fitrat: Urdu word for the inherent nature of a thing or person
Ammi: mother
Nov 2019 · 411
Words of a Coward
Midnight Rain Nov 2019
I hear voices singing in the name i left behind for you to wear,

sickly sweet voices stuck in throats so rotten, come running after you, dragging your feet into the ocean.


i would join in the depths but i’m running out of breath, i’ve seen so much of death, i’m afraid i might be next.


i swear, i swear my love, I am no traitor, but since my very birth they’ve doomed me for something greater.
and i’ve learned to run from everything that trembles these bones —i swear, i swear my love, i’ve never known the feeling of coming home.

—sirens are singing the song of my prophecy, i don’t dare turn around this time, forgive me.
Oct 2019 · 340
Bullet Shot Twice
Midnight Rain Oct 2019
i'm still coughing up dried leaves
from last autumn,
coaxing out those last goodbyes
before my breath runs cold.

if i'm telling the truth, i'd tell you that
it stills hurts,
that sometimes during the nights
i forget where i am and

i think of you breaking, again and again
and it kills me like it killed you.


and all i can do is
scream half-asleep begging for something
for some change i know i won't get.


but i can't say that,
instead i tell you that this is all
a process.
everything eventually heals.
every loss, that pierces your heart like a
bullet shot twice,
heals.

Oct 2019 · 688
The Lost King
Midnight Rain Oct 2019
For centuries a throne room lies in waiting
For a king who has lost his way home
The land grows barren,
No sign of hope is left

In the depths of the sea
Sirens sing of a prophecy,  
Legend has foretold the coming of
Rain
When a man learns to stand
On his wounded legs,
In front of the thing he fears
Without running back

A throne room lies in waiting for destiny
To light the empty lantern

A crown sits on top of a vessel
Who sees nothing but his loss
In the lines of his own two hands,
Blood like water
Runs like a river,
Down from his legs
To the ground beneath his feet,
Where shall he ever find the courage that he seeks?

Loosely inspired by the Fisher King
Sep 2019 · 943
Smoke Signal
Midnight Rain Sep 2019
a boy is  fleeing
from the flames with
embers at his feet,
he chokes on the nostalgia
of the lost
swearing it was the last
time he'd ever go back,

a boy flees from
the flames
and yet, these flames
never seem to leave his
eyes,
his hands turn to smoke
during the night,
like a cry for help
before he’s all burnt out.

Sep 2019 · 373
Roses from the Night
Midnight Rain Sep 2019
your hands bring roses,
like a red death
hurtling from space
right into my palms.
_
i know this gesture
all too well, i have seen
a night emerge
out of memory with your
name engraved
across the blood moon

Aug 2019 · 428
Time Wanders
Midnight Rain Aug 2019
time wanders the hollowness of my
chest,
roaming like a lost bird
through the skies that ache.
it carves out years and centuries
until nothing but the era of healing
must take its place.
time wanders within me, searching for something
to bridge the path between what was then
and what is now without killing me.
and when the era dawns upon me, at last
my hollowness will bloom white roses,
instead of red,
until i am nothing
but a fading beauty covered
from head to toe
in all that you call –– healing.

i find it harder and harder write, which is why i'm always falling behind.
Jul 2019 · 490
The Journey Back
Midnight Rain Jul 2019
how does one continue his journey without looking back to see what he has turned from? he cannot.
for he is tethered to his past, no matter how far he runs from it.
he is bound to run back to the thing that broke him, just to see if, after all this time, it still does.

excerpt from an incomplete poem
May 2019 · 527
Solemnly
Midnight Rain May 2019
your eyes
are not eyes they are
pools of yearning,
solemnly running through
the crowd
reflecting everything in you

this is why you keep your gaze down
May 2019 · 531
Aks
Midnight Rain May 2019
Aks
it is not that
you are not separate
from me which makes me restless;

it is that you are of me.

that i see you
and with you is my aks, reflection.
what nature of vanity
is this, my love —i look to you and see only myself?

Aks: urdu word for reflection
May 2019 · 608
Glorious
Midnight Rain May 2019
do you see how brilliantly
the light from the other side
calls me?

shall i carry the veil of my soul
towards it? shall i fly gloriously
into as it cascades in abundance?

oh, shall i meet the warmth i have
been starved of at last?
finally it is near, near enough to engulf me,

do i dare disturb this peaceful wakening?

May 2019 · 540
Fruits
Midnight Rain May 2019
some realizations
sink to the bottom
of my stomach, rotting
like old, over-ripened fruits
with seeds of doubt growing
in tangles.

Apr 2019 · 988
An Arrival
Midnight Rain Apr 2019
after a lifetime
of silence
a voice emerges from
the depths of the past,

and with its arrival
a memory that has slept
out of grief,
awakes once more with
hope tucked under both arms

the shades of your emergence
stains the nights
i have spent in suffering
with a light,
i swear there is a new
dawn grazing the ocean,
awaiting in the
golds of your eyes, hiding in
the shadows of your words

Apr 2019 · 371
Another Goodbye
Midnight Rain Apr 2019
some people never stay
long enough for you
to say goodbye.
sometimes they leave quietly
while you are lost in thought,
mid-conversation,
half-asleep,
    some people leave as if
they never existed.

they leave you with nostalgia filling in
empty spaces between your words,
a knot tying
to your chest,
a heaviness settling  
in,
another goodbye wedged to
the bridge of your throat,

some people leave
not knowing how
much they left behind

Apr 2019 · 400
Mirages
Midnight Rain Apr 2019
i run into mirages so often
i am no longer sure of reality

there lies an empty well
inside,
no matter how much i fill it
it never fills

my hands have turned red
carrying buckets of regrets,
it digs deeper with every
sharp intake of a breath

sometimes the sun
is so bright that
my eyes play tricks on me,
i see oasis’s in places they
shouldn’t be

there is
a flickering lantern
by your door,
i think it is in hopes
of my return

but i run into mirages so
often... i am too weary to run after
you, for surely you’ll
disappear the very second
my fingertips start to reach

Apr 2019 · 323
Musafir
Midnight Rain Apr 2019
i have travelled
for miles
with parched lips splitting scarlet,
crescent eyes wandering the skies
searching for a meaning
that cannot be found

something like courage sleeps
tentatively between my brow,
my hands reach within me and
come back shaking,
both palms filled with fear
yet i do not dare lift an eyelash
at fate, it tests me as it must,
i suffer as i should

this is the life of a musafir
, *
a journey of the self that never ends, a pain that lives almost infinitely
and every breath
that passes, passes through in breaks

*musafir: persian word for  traveler, wanderer, passenger, etc.

feels unfinished but i’m okay with it
Apr 2019 · 402
A Dream Dreamt
Midnight Rain Apr 2019
there are places so warm
within you
that they are not of this world.

rather they seem as if they linger
in the realm of
dreams as
a colossal sanctuary veiled
in glory

you,
overflow with rivers
running with the sun on
their backs; glinting in speckled
gold and silver armor
with a warmth no one is
ever able to touch.

you,

you are breathtaking
with every turn i turn,
there is no place worldly enough
to contain you.
you are so unreal i am sure, i
must still be dreaming
a dream i dreamt so long ago.

Mar 2019 · 299
To Forget
Midnight Rain Mar 2019
some memories are difficult to
forget because they
hold such warmth
within them; so much light
that you are sure it must be what
keeps away all your darkness.

i think that is why some people never let go.
like me, i still hold onto
you as if i cannot separate
my life from the smile on your face.

and that is why, despite the ache,
i hold your lost love within me.

that is why, the pain of letting you go still
lingers in the notches of my back, the space
between my lungs, and every bone in me
lives with your loss.

Mar 2019 · 413
Outrun
Midnight Rain Mar 2019
you once yelled out all
your secrets into the cold of the night,
thinking that your words
were swallowed by the void

but the night carried your
secrets, poured them all down with
the rain,
that fell onto your streets,
until every alleyway knew the words you
stitched to your chest

you run from place to place,
never staying long enough
to catch a breath.

what keeps you on your
toes, wanderer? why are you so afraid
of the thing you love the most?
why run city to city, when you know
you can never outrun your truth?

Feb 2019 · 2.0k
kaleidoscope eyes
Midnight Rain Feb 2019
tell me all about your
kaleidoscope eyes.
what love have they seen
to make them break with such color?
for their beauty aches with
the brilliance of stars.
so incandescently
veiled in tinges of blues and greens.
it is as if they have swallowed
the sorrows of the seas

so much magic in you,
i forget you are human
Feb 2019 · 354
Gossamer Sky
Midnight Rain Feb 2019
your hand does not meet mine
all the way,
it is just close enough for
me to feel its warmth

this, this my love is a story
unlike any other
it will break this gossamer sky apart
       *
 please, don’t look away just yet *

your eyes meeting my eyes
is a reunion
that even the silken moon waits
centuries for

how do i tell you
how unworldly i feel in your presence?
          are we infinite for a finite moment in time?

is this our death?

i never grasped the tranquility of
it until you spoke
to my soul so softly,
i must have,
surely i must have,
           i must have died

my poems are getting considerably cheesier, apologizies
Feb 2019 · 258
The Death of Roses
Midnight Rain Feb 2019
they say to me that patience
is a seed, covered in the soil of the earth.
plunged in darkness.
buried like death with the hope of life.

but no one knows that better than me,
for i have been waiting for
something i will never receive.

i tend to my roses,
knowing that they
have wilted and withered
into the warmth of the earth

yet i still wait for the bloom,
like a sign of redemption,
but the death of roses has not a drop of life.
they will not bring with them the hope
for a new day
no matter, no matter
how long i wait

Feb 2019 · 283
A Dying Man
Midnight Rain Feb 2019
a dying man finds the light in his last breath. even after years spent in utter darkness, his eyes touch the light so softly

he arrives to his death with a flickering drop of hope and pours it into his grave before he lays.

they bury him under the cloak of the night with the earth running over his shoulders, encasing him forever within her

and the drop of hope that filled his grave turned his very being into dust.

the very dust that sits in the parting of your lips.

i am afraid of fate.
for it seems that i have found a light in you.
i am terrified that you might become the message of my death,
that you might be what turns me to dust.

Feb 2019 · 1.1k
Left
Midnight Rain Feb 2019
you spent most of your
life watching people leave
even though they meant the world
to you.
and you never get used it.
it still hurts.
every goodbye ever spoken
wakes you up from your dreams
and in the middle of the night
you look up into the sky,
wondering,
wondering,
will it ever be you who’s leaving
and not the one who’s left

Jan 2019 · 1.4k
Escape Escaping
Midnight Rain Jan 2019
during the nights
i barely scratch the surface of sleep
before the sun pours over my eyes,
reminding me of another day i cannot
bear the strength to carry  

i am stuck, it seems, in two different worlds
      wedged between the conscious
               and unconscious

i am a nomad wandering the
middle ground of two realities,
caught in the crease of two pages
of the same book

i am bound to nothingness
or perhaps nothingness is bound to me

        an ache sifts through me,
drawing out the years from my life
leaving me to count my days in sighs

during the night,
sleep leaves like an old friend and
i cannot stop the tears
when he says his last goodbye.

Jan 2019 · 220
Dusted Rose
Midnight Rain Jan 2019
maybe i am better as just words
on paper,

better as a faceless,
nameless creature
hidden under the cloak
of uncertainty

something as intangible
as the air you breathe

something like an illusion,
like a mirage painted in a dusted
rose desert

i am better off when
i almost cease to exist

Jan 2019 · 251
Sound of Goodbyes
Midnight Rain Jan 2019
sometimes i think
i can say goodbye to anyone
because i said goodbye to you

and that nearly killed me.

but it is only when someone
is leaving,
i realize how empty i will become

and i cannot bear the thought
of losing another person

i expected your loss
to make me stronger
but in truth, i break at the very
sound of goodbyes

you have doomed me to
cling to people,
however little i have of them

Jan 2019 · 473
The Parting
Midnight Rain Jan 2019
last night my mother
held my face in her merciful hands
and told me to smile.
i looked into her eyes and saw
so much worry, my heart sank deeper

for her sake
i lifted the corners of my mouth.

"there," she says, "this is not the age for sadness."
she kissed my forehead, parting with a blessing
"Shaba-khair,
          may the night pass over you well."
the night shall pass, however it does.
but mother, dear mother,
      how shall this sadness, for sadness has no age

Dec 2018 · 269
Nameless
Midnight Rain Dec 2018
to the one who called my name beautiful
and ran into the night with it,

you left me with nothing in my
hands except a few words of
goodbye that i still can’t
let go of

sometimes the night breaks open
upon me like an old wound,
i can almost hear the darkness
call out my name
but i don’t dare walk down
that path again

my heart has been restless,
sleep abandoned me in a dream
where your loss embedded itself
within me
like a body in a grave

to the one who called my name beautiful
and ran into the night with it,
i have been searching for something
to fill this void, but nameless things
never seem to do

Dec 2018 · 476
Sacrifice
Midnight Rain Dec 2018
somewhere out there
is the truth,
ask the sun on my back.
-
my mother says
marriage is a war
she never stops fighting.
-
she warns me of sacrifice.
the ability to bend my back.
to stretch my limbs.
to bite my tongue until it
bleeds.
this is how she taught a
silent daughter
endurance.
-
so do not worry.
when we meet
i will be ready.
i’ve been fighting all
kinds of wars my whole life.
-
just ask the sun on my back,
this is the truth.
i’ve got battle scars to
prove it too.


[when mothers teach their daughters to submit to the will of someone else, it becomes the unpardonable sin]
look up ‘the unpardonable sin’ nathaniel hawthorne
Dec 2018 · 1.8k
Scarlet
Midnight Rain Dec 2018
last night i dreamt
a bullet escaped from your lips and
seared its head into
the crook of my neck
and i stood there in scarlet,
my last thought before i woke
painted my veins with life,


      “i will survive this.
                i will survive you.”

even in my dreams you are the death of me
Dec 2018 · 430
emphemeral
Midnight Rain Dec 2018
a yearning in me
begs to go back to a place
that no longer exists.
i am lost in the shadows
of time’s eternal fold,
aimlessly wandering from one world to the next.
aching to meet your ephemeral being somewhere in the Between

Dec 2018 · 428
Paperflowers
Midnight Rain Dec 2018
i write words on
paperflowers
but i know they will only bloom on the
dawn of our reunion

and i have said my farewells
to the night you left me in,
i rose like smoke
smoldering against the sun

it is dawn again,
       but i am alone
perhaps, at last, you have lost your
way to me

lost your way to me, just like i knew you would
Nov 2018 · 386
the art of drowning
Midnight Rain Nov 2018
there is something in the way you hide your fears, the way you burn your darkness
to flames
the way the shadow of your nightmares
dance across your face
the way you say you’re  
o
            k  
        a
y
but every letter is hanging with a thread
there is something in the way you hide your fears with a ghost of a smile,
i try to believe
you’re telling me the truth

but i know what grief does,
how it changes you

this is the art of drowning,
i can see it in the way your lungs are burning
for air,
but you don’t dare scream out,
you don’t even put up a fight

the waves are consuming you,

but with all this fire you still can’t burn out an entire ocean

you can’t escape from this one
this is your fear
this is your death

this. is. how. it. goes.

Oct 2018 · 499
a flickering light
Midnight Rain Oct 2018
sometimes i think i can almost see
a flickering light from the corner of my sight
and i think it is hope with eyes like fire glinting
at me

but when i turn my head to look
i see nothing but a heavy
breath filled with regret
and grief floods through me again like blood

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