being in love with me
means you've agreed
that each and every of your remarks
will be portrayed in lines of my poems
exhaled as air of my every breath
to be let out as sighs and gasps.
the thought of you will run through
my tangling veins
engraved not in my skin but my bones
even when my body is crushed
you'll float as fairy dust.
your name
will be hummed in the melody
of my dearest lullaby
you'll be the reason i sleep;
you're the sweetest of dreams.

being in love with me
tells that you've agreeed
to be loved by this very being
that carries the definition of imperfections
till the day all seas have gone dry
till the hour all birds refused to fly
till Death greets us both
like old friends meeting at coffee shops

being in love with me
might not be one of the wonders
because i am a bird with a broken wing
a crashed airplane
a forgotten book
a rejected mixtape
an ignored museum
an unwanted company
to many
a nuisance

all that i can assure you is that
when

being in love with me*
the least i can do is
love you as a whole
in spite of your broken heart
your past
your flaws
your everything

      *- Qdri M (17/10/13 01.06AM) -

Do you still remember

The lavender scent
of home
The smell of spearmint toothpaste
of long-waited mornings
The first note
your mother taught
when you started playing the piano
The self-proclaimed lucky tee
You wore on every football try-out
The book you read
that only let you sleep when dawn came
The song you sang to her
right after asking
"Would you marry me?"
The cry
of your very first child

You may have forgotten
things you were so familiar with
things that were once so evident
But know that
They remained
They were waiting faithfully
For you
They missed you


And I bet they still do

I want to be the hands
that aid
the hurting heart, left and ignored
that shed
those tears in silence
the grief when the sobbing is not heard
because the voice of insurgent is too loud
I want to be the words
that comfort
the most restless of bodies, almost every night
that lifts
every of those who has thoughts about giving up

I want to be the hands
as well as the voice
that stop those innocent wrists from being slit
from bleeding unceasingly
the arms
that hug the body that wishes to willingly jump down
from the highest building in town

No other trigger will be pulled
No other rope will be hung
No other life will be taken

As long as there's hope

I had tea beneath the oak tree
With the zealous boy as company
"Does death scare you?" I said
"It saddens me.", he said.
And so
I took it as a 'No'

Because weeks later
Came the wine waiter
"He left with a smile one could never fathom
And for you, an anthem
To sing when in joy
Oh that poor boy"

For all the painful days there are to come
For all the persons I'll become
For the imprisoned demons to be released
For the rebellious angels that will never cease

I longed for the cloudless sky
And he told me for me he would buy

Incessant despondency killed him
Paramount dismay had swallowed him
Sadly, the whole universe wasn't in his favor
When his wrist was for the blade to devour

I still sat beneath the very oak tree
Still sipping my cup of jasmine tea
Hoping to succeed in helping another soul
From stopping loving oneself as a whole