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Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
You can flip through your life,
like a photo album, only to see,
how each of them took a little bit of you,
and replaced it with a little bit of themselves,
and one day, you’ll wake up,
with a start, and you’re 25,
with a job you like on three days a week,
and you’ll realise that you aren’t an individual,
you’re a patchwork soul,
made of all the people who came,
who left, who stayed,
those who made you laugh,
and those who made you weep,
and in the end, you’re not the palette,
made of the stroke of a single colour,
you’re a painting, made by a frenzied artist
on the edge of his canvas,
splashed out into the very corners of all
that you are, will be, and have been.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
All those 3 am nights, or 7 pm evenings take me,
two years back to a mystery still unsolved,
something that only surprises me,
yet paradoxically scares me at the same time,
it reminds me of the oh-so-dependant me,
who didn’t quite know what she stood for,
until someone came about to lend her an identity,
only to let her breathe in their presence,
and suffocate her, to her core being, when they left.

She was taught to swim with life guards,
and be scared when they left,
until when they really did leave,
and she really did drown,
but maybe thats when fate met her,
and she learnt to swim on her own,
swim to the shore that defined her,
and be the Columbus,
who lost his way to find his way,
and discover the independent girl she is today,
because maybe it isn’t about learning how to swim,
but drowning in the very core of your being,
and then learning to stroke back,
to where you belong,
and that's what defines you.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
Maybe trust is only an illusion,
or a string of 5 letters,
that cease to exist anymore,
beyond the confines of a dictionary,
or the hearts of those,
who are young and wild,
and trying to live the extremes,
because for someone who grew,
someone who understood,
and experienced the term life,
naturally knew that trust was nothing,
but a word synonymous to illusion.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
She’s a paradox,
So beautiful yet so chaotic,
You’re lucky if you have her,
And even luckier if you win her,
She’s unreal.

You can sit by her,
As you clean
 out your heart,
You can laugh at her,
As she trips 
over her life’s little untamed tales,
You can watch her struggle with 
the fake,
Creatures she doesn’t deserve to know,
You can hold her hand as an assurance,
That good still exists.

Its since i’ve known her that,
I feel my fingers tremble ever so little,
As I read love letters from lovers,
Whose faces I’ve forgotten,
And find
 tumblr feelings I had forced myself to misplace.

She lends me a hand with the 
heavy boxes,
But lets me take the
 heaviest ones,
They’re the most
 precious things,
That I have ever claimed
 as mine,
And though I trust her with my 
I don’t think I trust my own.

She sits by me as I clean
 out this old rotten place,
But doesn’t offer to
 help me do the same,
She teaches me life lessons,
Only for me to break down on a whole,
And then repair myself,
Because now when I’m reconstructed,
He can’t deconstruct me.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
I have always wanted you to look at me with enigmatic eyes,
Eyes that tell tales of the very soul that lies behind them,
A soul that invests it very being in loving me,
And yes; your eyes do signal to me, your very soul,
Tragedy is, the soul signals something else,
I was 6 when you used to deconstruct my feeble existence,
And make me question the very reasoning of every breath I took,
And today I am 16; and not much has changed in particular,
Your eyes are still obsessed with scrutiny that violates my being,
They target me, for I am the prey; the failing one,
Take back your investments, the ones you made in me,
For all were forced and without the consent of your being,
For you did that because society required you to,
I might as well have everything today,
Thank you for everything, Thank you for giving me everything,
Thank you for giving me everything but a pice of yourself, pa.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
When you read that pain demands to be felt,
you didn’t know what it meant until now,
Pain gets to me more frequently,
than happiness ever will,
It makes me feel much closer
to a myth called life, I fail to understand,
its so beautiful yet so caustic,
how we come to the world,
by giving pain to people who bear us,
which then becomes a life long affair,
we don’t care about those,
who bother caring for us,
and we pain those,
who are indifferent to us,
those who make an effort for our being,
instead we give in for those,
who never bothered, never will.
You told me to forgive you,
and to forget you,
or maybe only the latter,
because you were never wrong,
it was my selfishness that,
kept us to pull along,
even when we you didn’t want to,
I used to photograph you often,
thinking I’d keep you safe with me,
and never let you go, never lose you,
but its paradoxical how the same
photographs are the only evidence
that tell me how much of you I’ve lost.
Nawal Fatima Rai Dec 2015
At times at 3am,
in the middle of a sleepless night,
I stumble across suicidal thoughts,
only to test my tendencies,
realising how i am too weak,
for both; living and dying,
but thats not what suicide is for me,
maybe i just don’t want to die,
maybe the only reason i think,
i should die is because of you,
maybe i want you to notice me,
for this one last time,
to see how you left me to rot,
to let an unknown cancerous awe take over,
but now i have dropped the idea,
of suicide or death,
or maybe embraced it,
even more firmly than before,
I’ll suicide; today. everyday,
but not the way you thought i would,
because that way I might fail,
No. I’ll suicide by living,
Yes, I’ll live,and it's the slowest,
and most effective tactic,
for what you term suicide,
No one gets out alive anyway.
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