Sometimes
I wish I wrote more
poems about
you, love.

But thoughts of you
are simply too precious
to share.

You know I'm a simple human, I don't worry about much except for school, and food, and work opportunities, and the future in general.

And the future is big, it's one of my personal biggest fears, connected to my fear of the unknown.

I like to know when and where things happen and why. Needless to say, I'm an organized person.

I don't worry about much.
Sorry, I lied, I worry way more than I used to.

I can't do much of anything without needing confirmation and reassurance that I'm gonna be okay.

Mostly because I'm not okay.

Sorry, I shouldn't do this.
I do this thing where everything I write becomes about the same sorry tragedy, starring me as the main character.

But far from any kind of protagonist.

My best friend texts me and asks me if I'm doing okay, and I tell them "I don't want to talk about the end of the world".

At least, that's what I would say if I had a best friend.

Sorry, am I lying too much? There's only been two lies, and that's too much on the record for most people so just don't stop to address my mouth, just walk away in hopes that I might shut up.

When I was a kid, it becomes the end of the world when a classmate lets the entire class know who your crush is. And that sinking feeling that happens when I wonder if Jason would like a girl like me.

So yeah, the world's ending. But 10 years later Jason turned into a *******, so it's not that big of a deal.

If you believe in multiple dimensions, any one of those worlds could end just when the story gets good, like a cliff hanger that never gives you closure, or when a song cuts off because your phone died.

Like popping the question and before deciding to spend the rest of your life with someone you might love forever, the world splits in two and you fall away.

The world ends.

I want to live to answer that question like the world won't end until it has an answer from me. But somedays, even I'm indecisive.

When a test score comes back and it's just below what you wanted or needed it to be, the world ends.
When you put on your seatbelt on before your first driver's exam, the world ends.
When there is only one Oreo cookie left in the package, the world definitely ends.

December 21st, 2012, we were so convinced the world was gonna end, we made a movie about it that only managed to get 39% on Rotten Tomatoes.

And where was I the night before?

In karate class. My sensei standing before the class, shrugging it off saying "So the world's ending tomorrow... let's do some work".

The world goes on.

But when I woke up successfully the day after doomsday on the 22nd, I was surprised to be alive. Because what is any average kid supposed to think?

I was scared. But we continued on to Christmas anyway.

2017 comes along and we have yet another eclipse, one of many passed and yet to come.

I did not look up to see the sky shining of falling, my heart couldn't take it.

I am told, it is a sign. A link in the long chain of events leading up to coming of the Anti Christ, to the ends of the earth as we know it.

I have woken up countless times more scared of the ground falling out from under me than the sky falling onto me. I don't need alien invasions, or nuclear war, or acid rain, or killer volcanoes, or my own depression because the world is ending, and I don't want to talk about it.

They ask, "You're a Christian aren't you? Why are you scared? Of death, or the end, or anything?".

Being religious, and afraid are two worlds I'm told are never meant to touch, but yet they are still ending. I still haven't read the book of Revelation like a "Good Christian" Because I'm afraid of scaring myself. The world is going to end!

I did have a best friend.

Or at least, I treated them that way.

They said, "Death, is just another adventure. that's why I'm not scared of it."

I ruined my friendship with them about 8 months ago.

I haven't spoken to them in...

In..

I'm sorry. I can't remember.

But suddenly it feels like the first grade crush reveal all over again.

But it's different now.

Someone has left me.
And it hurts.

The world is ending...

And I don't want to talk about it.

The chair is sighing
The walls walking
The mirror feeling sick of my ugly face
That curtains are annoying too
I don't see the window in the
silence that chocks the sparrow
The trees has made me a prison
My dreams are long
Longer than the shadows and
with their lappets I'll sew a dress
Its buttons up to my eyes
An afraid balloon may be plays
with the hands of a child in the
distance
And the victim would be a lady
tomorrow letting go all her
childhood in hands of the wind
I look at my future
1- I love to be in the arms of a man
In the hands has not touched any
woman's *******
2- I see a pregnant lady coming
down the stairs not thinking of
her tomorrow
lullabying for the dolls
-I've forgotten all the names of my dolls-
3- I have a child
tying her shoelaces
Taking her warm hands
I can't say how much I love her even in my eyes
Backing home from a daily shopping,
she sings with her childish voice passing through
the alleys
4- I'm old
Mum and dad are not with me anymore
They had to go
The photo frames, just excuses
for touching my memories
The chair is still sighing
The walls walking and
It's just me
Dead this time

صندلی آه می کشد
دیوارها راه می روند
آینه
از زشتی صورتم
استفراغ می کند
پرده ها هم مزاحم اند
پنجره را نمی دیدم
در آن سکوتی که گنجشک را خفه کرد
درختان
زندان را برایم ساخته اند
مدتیست
خواب هایم از سایه ها
بلند تر می شوند
با دنباله اش
لباسی خواهم دوخت
که دکمه هایش از چشمانم
بسته شوند
از دور
شاید
بادبادکی
-هراسان-
در دستان دختر بچه ای همبازی می شد
فردا
قربانی خانمی خواهد بود
که تمام کودکی هایش را با باد
رها می سازد
به آینده ام نگاه می کنم
1- دوست دارم
در آغوش مردی باشم
که دستانش
سینه های زنی را لمس نکرده اند
2- زنی باردار را می دیدم
که از پله ها پایین می آمد
بی آنکه به فردایش بیندیشد
برای عروسک ها لالایی می خواند
-من اسم تمام عروسک هایم را فراموش کرده ام-
3- کودکی دارم
بند کفش هایش را می بندم
دستان گرمش را می گیرم
حتی با چشمانم هم
نمی توانم بگویم
چقدر دوستش دارم
از کوچه ها می گذریم
با صدای بچه گانه اش
شعر می خواند و
از خرید روزانه
به خانه برمی گردیم
4- پیر شده ام
دیگر پدرومادرم در کنارم نیستند
آن ها هم باید می رفتند
قاب عکس ها بهانه اند
تا خاطراتم را نوازش کنم
هنوز
صندلی آه می کشد
دیوارها راه می روند
فقط منم
که این بار مرده بودم