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 Jul 2018 muhdzaim
The covers cried out
as I break free of their greedy,
jealous grasp. First small victory…
I’m supposed to count those you know?
To remind myself to keep moving.
I still cut out my heart today
and sat it on the kitchen table.

The knife smiled at me,
small victory for it I guess.
I felt the air slaloming
between my ribs
on its way to my spine,
where it grabbed hold.
Cold, unforgiving.

I should be used to the cold,
it’s the same every today.
My needle pierces the scars
as I sew the thick flesh back in place,
to keep the cold out, of course.
Reminding me of the days
the victories weren’t enough.

I stand and put on my sweater,
grab the heart, and throw it in the trash
on my way to the covers
to ask their forgiveness for thinking
I would be strong enough today.
The victories can wait until tomorrow
after all.
 Jul 2018 muhdzaim
of one thing
i am sure
and that is
that i am
unsure of
and it’s funny
how i can’t
sleep but my
chest closes its
eyes and hums
with a heartbeat
that is unsure of
itself, too.
i try to morph
into a body
i don’t feel
belongs to me
just so i can
fit somewhere
fit in somewhere
and i tell so
many stories
about the
universe, it
forever feels
like i am trying
to remain lost.
i am unsure
of myself;
connecting the
moles on my
skin as if they
will spell out
something bigger
so i can feel
like i matter,
at least for
a little while.
i sleep beside
myself, stare at
a reflection
so unfamiliar
i couldn’t even
identify it in
a crowd of
strangers, but
i am trying.
and one day
i’m sure i’ll
be sure
of myself but
until then,
i’ll morph into
someone i can
be proud of
and hope that
the universe
sends me back
to myself.
 Jul 2018 muhdzaim
Blade Maiden
So, how's it going?
Did you end up in those arms you kept talking about?
Did she see you on the airport all jet-lagged,
all baffled, standing in the passenger area, jam-packed.
So, you didn't know?
She was lying on the runway, waiting for you.
Her heart pre-packed,
ready to get hijacked.
The differences between you and her,
7 hours to **** the time,
5092 miles away, still committed a crime.
June 3rd marks the day,
on which the newspaper says nothing,
cause nothing ever happened, you just went away.
So, what about your dreams?
She kept them for you, tucked away in a suitcase,
ready to run off with you in plain sight,
but your plane never reached this side.
You never even took off to be exact,
guess your bag wasn't intact,
and matter of fact,
I think honest will is what it lacked.
So, whatever, right?
It's not like,
it's all pointless anyway.
That's what you'd say.
Doesn't matter that it meant a whole lot,
she might spend 7 hours more to untangle the knot,
and has to walk 5092 miles to get back the full heart she got,
before she met a stranger who spoke of her arms,
and made her built an airport inside of her palms.

So, how's it going?...
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