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  Oct 2016 Rola Al-Ghoul
Arik Fletcher
Those precious little moments,
Where hearts like ours could mend,
When love was all we lived for,
And dreams could never end.

Each precious little moment,
The hopes we held inside,
The good and bad encountered,
All taken in our stride.

Those precious little moments,
When we walked hand in hand,
No longer to be shared by us,
Despite all that we’d planned.

Each precious little moment,
Wrapped in each others arms,
A safely now long gone to me,
Sat here lost in my qualms.

Those precious little moments,
Where love still found a way,
Shared by our souls forever,
No matter what we say.

Each precious little moment,
We never should regret,
The time we had was special,
I will not soon forget.
Rola Al-Ghoul Oct 2016
Selfish…

Like a hungry storm. Like a famished sea, you devour me
With no restrain, I drown in you, gladly, willingly
You fill your empty void with my trembling sighs
With intricately woven lies, you capture me

Entrancing like a blinding star, strangely captivating
Out of reach, you slowly breach my walls that cave in
I fashioned them of broken dreams and force I’m faking
You broke into me only to leave me wounded and aching

And you are mighty in your selfishness
Glorious in your confidence and roar
Like a giant beast
who flaunts his feast of spoils of war

You are selfish and I am, without a doubt, selfish too
For freely I torment my core
Only to feel the soaring roar…
of a hungry, distant, selfish you
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Rola Al-Ghoul Oct 2016
Eyes closed in a restless clinch
To memories lost and words misspoken

Holding on to what appears like inch
Of miles of dreams and love unspoken

Frantic screams and a violent flinch
From pain and dread and lies outspoken

Looked for peace yet drowned in a binge
Of made up hopes and lies soft-spoken

Numb to the dreadful burning singe
Of truth so bright and ache foretoken

Life on the edge of a desolate fringe
Where words are sweet and hearts are broken


http://convozine.com/ominous-profile/28978
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  Sep 2016 Rola Al-Ghoul
Danielle Shorr
sometimes getting out of bed feels more like a climbing
and some mornings waking up can be a triathlon of effort
I have completed many

sometimes I am all muscle
sometimes I am all skin
sometimes I am the long lost cousin of regret
sometimes I am the farthest thing from human

some days I am a Saturday
some days I am more Monday
some days I am both
it does not matter which day it actually is
it does matter if I can't remember

I get lost often
in poetry
in the process of writing
in movies
and moments of comfort

I don't think about the future a lot
but occasionally I'll wonder what it would be like to live happily in it
Now and then I'll draw people into mine and imagine how they'd fit

I take things day by day but tomorrow still excites me nonetheless

I was fifteen when I got my nose pierced
sixteen when I switched the stud for a ring
seventeen when I got my driver's license
and at eighteen I finally stopped sleeping with a nightlight

I am terrified of the dark
but I will never admit it

I am terrified of losing things
but I will hold onto my pride like it's my sole source of surviving

I will not always be smiling
know that if I am not, it’s not your fault
know that if I am, it is

it took me years to correctly pronounce ptsd
it took me a few, two exactly
to admit that I have it

know there will be days when the storm is too heavy to fight off alone
the winds too strong to fend off with just these arms
I will not ask for your help
I will think that I don't need it
I will

know that your laugh will never become secondary
your happiness, always a priority
I have loved too much for far too long to not do so consistently

I'm a hopeless romantic
but often times I will just be hopeless
this
is when I will need you most
when the loud of my vocality has turned itself quiet
when I can blame only tired for my weakness
this
is when I will need to be reminded
of that tomorrow that excites me so greatly
tell me
about all the times the stars were told they wouldn't glow bright and center
tell me about all those instances of defiance
tell me about the moments where the sun refused to let the clouds block her bravery
how she still manages to make herself known in the midst of chaos
tell me
is there anything more worth it
than being unabashed in your awareness?
to know that this is what I am
and it is all I have to offer
?

the thing is
I don't have a lot to offer you
only poorly composed sonnets and a good 99% of my affection
the other one percent
I'm saving for myself to have on a rainy day

the thing is
I don't have a lot to give
but I do have words I am willing to tie into stanzas
I will wrap them up and call them gifts
I've got a body,
not perfect but it's mine
and I'd love for you to know it

the thing is
there are a lot of things you should know about me
before you love me
but the truth is
a lot of them you really won't find out
until you do
and that alone
is the best part
about it
Rola Al-Ghoul Sep 2016
This feeling, so familiar. Demons awaken in my soul…again. They have never left though. They are always there. Half asleep in a deep slumber deep within, beneath the half smiles and the almost laughter! My demons, feelings that like to come unannounced, uninvited and extend their stay. And they stay…so present, so wholesome and whole they overtake the threads of my consciousness and play with my mind a marionette!

These feelings: heaviness all over my existence. Every inch of me crushed under the seamless weight. I'm moving at a glacier pace, carrying a backpack full of burden, rock solid burden. And I move in my place, un-forward, un-free...this feeling is rock cold.

It’s empty... Emptiness fills me to the rim, pours over through my skin in a stealth so intoxicating, slowly suffocating the smiles that were barely there. And now I'm heavy, and empty.

Those feelings, invisibly permanent, scarring and thirsty like demons ought to be... They hide in the lies I weave to conceal the darkness...consuming me from the inside in! They are constant...omnipresent. They are my only constant thing...

And I breathe, hoping the breath would sooth the fire burning within. And I breathe. The sound of my breath reminds me I am still here...temporarily. My life is temporary...like everything else worth having. My home is temporary, my happiness is temporary, my pain is constant. My whole life is a combination of hellos and goodbyes...3 homes so far and looking for the next. Like a bird I fly, but have no nest, no rest. Home is where the heart is, but my heart is lost...home is where I lay my head, but my head is spinning!

And I am red with anger; green with envy as I see the "wholes" walk around so complete and weightless...they are whole. I walk about so invisible, my heaviness so silent, my emptiness so quiet...a half soul, half heart living a half life...temporarily...

And I yearn; I yearn for the care, for the attention, for the consideration, for the affection. I yearn for the love, the passion, for the purpose. I yearn for a kiss that is not the last, for an embrace that is not the last, for a promise that will last. But then I remember, I am temporary, nothing ever lasts.

I am a half life, and I give that half away with every day that passes, with every night that unfolds I give my half self away. I miss but I'm not missed. I yearn but I'm not yearned for, I care but I'm not cared about...a half life, half heart, a whole emptiness...

And I sleep, for only in my dreams I am whole. In my dreams my demons are dead, buried underneath the rubble of a past life. In my dreams I am embraced, I am loved, I am wanted, I am needed, and I am the half life that found its other half. In my dreams I walk amongst the wholes, full of freedom, feather like, I sprint into a future so certain and bright. So I sleep, and maybe, just maybe, when I wake, I will find my demons gone, my heart found, my head calm and my half self...a whole
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Rola Al-Ghoul Sep 2016
Last night in bed we spoke for days
We made big bright plans for a life that we’re yet to see
The house we will buy and what our children's names will be
We drew dreams of honeymoon nights and days soaked in ecstasy
Sunkist hearts, smiles as warm as fireplace flames on Christmas eve
Years gone by and our big bright plans have taken sail across the deep
Where the tides rage high and the winds blow by
I guess our big bright plans have died at sea
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Rola Al-Ghoul Apr 2013
I am falling apart
All ends, no start
The bulls eye to the dart
All holes…black heart...

http://convozine.com/ominous/34781
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