Najwa Alya

Najwa Alya Dec 2020

I am made of stone,
but someone broke me.

My cracks are almost healed,
but every tiny crevice stings like pouring alcohol over an open wound.

I carve a smile on my granite face to conceal the tear stains and heart aches, laughing out loud and screaming inside all at the same time.

I know I’ll be okay though,
because when you crack open a rock,
there are crystals inside it.

I am broken, and I am beautiful.

Heart break brings you rock bottom, and you try to convince yourself you are less than, but you are not. You are worth it. I am worth it.

Najwa Alya Dec 2020

Maybe, sorta, kind of?

I haven’t done this in a while,
Writing rhymes in rhythm,
I haven’t had the time to think
Of words, my mind was numb.

I don’t know why I’m doing this,
What have I got to say?
I don’t think I have an answer
But really, I think I may.

I used to write so much back then,
Back when I was in love,
I don’t think I’m all smitten now,
But maybe, sorta, kind of?

Shaking of the rust from my metaphoric wheels of poetry.

Najwa Alya Jun 2017

To Write

It's a pleasure,
An escape,
It takes you places.

It's like love,
Like pain,
But on paper.

Only written,
No shape or texture,
But it gives you a thousand emotions.

It's what we do,
When the mouth cannot say,
What the heart feels.

— The End —