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hazem al jaber Aug 2019
ardency...



one day...

while she was in front of the mirror ...

it's her mirror ...

she saw another woman in that mirror ...

standing and sharing her the same mirror ...

got crazy as with no brain ...

got very angry to that woman whom shared her the same mirror ...

gave up to her anger ...

to smash so hard that mirror ...

broke it with a crazy hands ...

smashed it apart ...

to many pieces of that mirror ...

pieces were every where ...

she calmed for a second ...

then felt pains ...

in that hand ...

which smashed that mirror ...

she realized then ...

that she got a lot of women ...

every where ...

around her ...

after of this all ...

she got nothing ...

only pains ...

in her heart ...

because of her jealousy ...

yes ...

the jealousy ...

which it may kills her ...

one day ...

if she lives this ardency...


hazem al ...
Dark soul Nov 2015
You are the flashbacks
I would love to be
eternally tortured with
~
scatterbrained Jun 2015
i wonder if your bed remembers me over the others;

not that i spend more time in it or am any more special than them, but because i lie on the same side each time.

as a forewarning, i am neither permanent nor important, but i refuse to stop writing for you.

Lying in your bed and you lying to me in it has helped me learn that you will always wake up on my mind and I will always wake up alone.

Last night i dreamt I was your alien dream girl that kept the nightmares away but I woke up to god whispering that I'm the nightmare to which there's no relief. Disappointing revelations follow me through life and I think your entirety has become one of them, along with the crystal compliments you spit through your teeth.

I wish i could tell you that you made writer's block serendipitous, because the words that crawl out of my fingers ******* hurt, but your nose keeps bleeding and i keep screaming and you don't know how to stop. You don't understand that different places aren't new things, only the same poisons with prettier names.

Keep my secrets— don't tell the others that I like the toxicity, the burns and scrapes in my psyche. Keep that to yourself and I won't remind you of the day i watched you bleed, the day i whispered "I love you" with bloodstained teeth.

One thing you'll never realize about yourself is that your hand is a razor blade, a slender, sharp mountain range; but fingerprints fade eventually, or at least they smudge. I'm hoping you'll smudge away like your fingerprints, ambitions, conscience, compassion, and honesty. But while I'm waiting on you to change, I'll scribble on my walls in permanent marker, screaming "Look what I've done!" the entire time.

— The End —