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“Playing my heart like a grand piano”
Cairo, Egypt
I'm a 17 year old Egyptian high school student with a passion for music and poetry.
Poems
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Jun 2013
there is a seperation
a pain of seperation
such as a seperation
that only lovers specialise in
where the prevention of thought
is like a fortress overrun
where trampling terrains of concern
stampede upon the praire of the mind
transforming it into a soft savanna
of wating engagements
that murmer with comforing enchantments
lays upon such pain of seperation
as that of a perforated scar
seared across the heart
bringing tickles of soft warm tears
to the cheeks
the happist time becomes
a chasm only conquerd
by that gulping unification
of embrace
where soft burning lips
meet in that unknown
but express language
of clasped reunion
it is that pain, that awful pain
that only lovers know
a pain of seperation
such as a seperation
that only lovers specialise in
where the prevention of thought
is like a fortress overrun
where trampling terrains of concern
stampede upon the praire of the mind
transforming it into a soft savanna
of wating engagements
that murmer with comforing enchantments
lays upon such pain of seperation
as that of a perforated scar
seared across the heart
bringing tickles of soft warm tears
to the cheeks
the happist time becomes
a chasm only conquerd
by that gulping unification
of embrace
where soft burning lips
meet in that unknown
but express language
of clasped reunion
it is that pain, that awful pain
that only lovers know
Kole J McNeil Jan 2021
Pian
Kole J McNeil
Jan 2021
Pian
Pian
The scars on my wrists are reminders.
The fresh cuts sting and burn, The red of my blood brings me release of pain that I feel inside. The pain of the sharp and the sight of the blood, it reminds me that I’m alive. But now it just there, there is no pain just numb.
Pain
I’m not scared of death.
No on the contrary I invite it with open arms.
No I’m scared of living. The thought of life is what chills me to the bone. That feeling that I don’t live up to society's standards. That I’ll be treated diffrently if I don’t fit the description of a cis girl.
Pain
It comes in the form of a dress, of long hair, of makeup, of *******.
It does not come in the form of a broken limb or a gun wound.
It is not a physical pain. Though it can be more inhabilitating than a broken leg. You no longer have the strength or will to get out of bed. Or even live anymore.
Pain
It comes from those who do not understand
It comes from words spoken about you but not to you. It comes from betrail of the highest form. That of a friend, of a lover, of family. They talk. Thats what gives you the power to take those pills. To bury the knife so deep in your wrist they can’t take it out. To put that rope necklace on and push away the only thing holding you up.
Pain
It is the friends you push away that can’t help you
It’s the feeling of pure depression. It’s not a sickness that you can see. You don’t cough, you don’t have a sniffly nose, you aren’t pale, you don’t have a fever of 127. You are so tierd becuause if you sleep you dream but can’t call it dreaming. It’s only nighmares.
Pain
It’s not what you think it is.
It’s like a friend who never leaves. Deppression lives with you and you can’t escape it. It slowly invades your sleep and every waking second.
Pain
For me my deppression is my body
My skinny waist, big hips, and *******. From my round face to my girly voice. My shortness and my slender hands and tiny feet. My deppression is my Dysphoria. She huants me when I look in the mirror. I see it in the faces of my friends. So I push them away.
Pain
It’s feeling so loney that it feels as tough you can’t go on any more
It’s pushing away your friends when you need them the most becuse you don’t wan to hurt them if you do leave. And you consider making life better for everyone including yourself by ending it all. Those pills, that blade, the knife, or the necklace of rope makes you feel free.
Pain
No more PAIN
No more PAIN
NO MORE PAIN
PAIN
Pian
The scars on my wrists are reminders.
The fresh cuts sting and burn, The red of my blood brings me release of pain that I feel inside. The pain of the sharp and the sight of the blood, it reminds me that I’m alive. But now it just there, there is no pain just numb.
Pain
I’m not scared of death.
No on the contrary I invite it with open arms.
No I’m scared of living. The thought of life is what chills me to the bone. That feeling that I don’t live up to society's standards. That I’ll be treated diffrently if I don’t fit the description of a cis girl.
Pain
It comes in the form of a dress, of long hair, of makeup, of *******.
It does not come in the form of a broken limb or a gun wound.
It is not a physical pain. Though it can be more inhabilitating than a broken leg. You no longer have the strength or will to get out of bed. Or even live anymore.
Pain
It comes from those who do not understand
It comes from words spoken about you but not to you. It comes from betrail of the highest form. That of a friend, of a lover, of family. They talk. Thats what gives you the power to take those pills. To bury the knife so deep in your wrist they can’t take it out. To put that rope necklace on and push away the only thing holding you up.
Pain
It is the friends you push away that can’t help you
It’s the feeling of pure depression. It’s not a sickness that you can see. You don’t cough, you don’t have a sniffly nose, you aren’t pale, you don’t have a fever of 127. You are so tierd becuause if you sleep you dream but can’t call it dreaming. It’s only nighmares.
Pain
It’s not what you think it is.
It’s like a friend who never leaves. Deppression lives with you and you can’t escape it. It slowly invades your sleep and every waking second.
Pain
For me my deppression is my body
My skinny waist, big hips, and *******. From my round face to my girly voice. My shortness and my slender hands and tiny feet. My deppression is my Dysphoria. She huants me when I look in the mirror. I see it in the faces of my friends. So I push them away.
Pain
It’s feeling so loney that it feels as tough you can’t go on any more
It’s pushing away your friends when you need them the most becuse you don’t wan to hurt them if you do leave. And you consider making life better for everyone including yourself by ending it all. Those pills, that blade, the knife, or the necklace of rope makes you feel free.
Pain
No more PAIN
No more PAIN
NO MORE PAIN
PAIN
blessing hlongwane Nov 2009
darkstream's world
blessing hlongwane
Nov 2009
lost to my world of emotion loathed by confusion i can't define existance between the lines of coruption manipulated human justifyin death wit superior instructions weapon or not the choice was chosen by deception never recognisin your actions these are the troubles of afections when men are punished by unrealised intention i nw hand my attention my insides made to continuesly feel passion but lost lack the attitude to not loose the perception beauty in pian wat strange attraction