The heart if this city still has one beats to the sound of mutterings down here on the underground.
Nothing can be taken away
not yesterday and
tomorrow will come
come what may.
For the living life goes on
in an orderly fashion
that's what we do,
chaos has no place here
we do not fear
There's always an element
from a small contingent
and that's what this is
taken to extremes.
These are not nightmares
though sometimes it
that they are,
this is the moment
taken too far
Keep your chin up and
at the same time
tuck your head in
I’ve always been consumed with a sadness and heaviness i could never rid myself of
I wrote constantly.
I knew what heartache felt like and yet nothing could have prepared me for this.
I have not yet lost you.
You’re still here, you still love me.
But for how long?
My mind keeps running back to that sadness to that emptiness and i ask, “how much longer do i have?”
I’ve taken up tarot cards, runes and pendulums and i ask them all the time.
I ask them how things are really going.
I ask them if you still love me or if you’re only pretending.
“How much longer do i have?”
I want to be prepared.
I want to know you’re leaving before even you do.
I want to grieve before it happens so it doesn’t kill me.
I feel the anxiety burning in my chest already.
I find myself daydreaming about a future where I’m in a lonely little apartment late at night and I can feel your arms around me. However, when I roll over to face you there’s no one there and I remember that you’re with someone else and you’re happier with her.
I don’t want that to be real.
I don’t want you to leave.
So I try to hope for the best but I want to prepare for the worst.
Please tell me how long I have. Please tell me before it ends.
People call me
A smile on my face
With just enough grace
To pull off a lie
I’ve never been
For more than a couple weeks
Since my debut at preschool
I was never meant to live
First came physical abuse
But not the kind you get from someone
Rather someone your age
Some who’s only four
Someone who has no idea
That they’re the trigger to the bomb
But too late
For it’s already set off
The alarms blaring in my ears
But to everyone else they’re
The laughter of children
Because I was never important enough to be seen
I was pulled off playground equipment by my hair
Slapped for wanting to use the same toy as the other kid
The mulch was my best friend
For it was the only thing cushioning the blow
Showing any kind of mercy
To the little girl who just smiled it off
That’s all I ever did
I never wanted to cause a problem
I never wanted to become a burden
I never wanted to be
But it was too late for that
By elementary school, I was the target
Even with a new playground
The mulch remained my only friend
I wish I had some of those back then
Second came the emotional abuse
Tearing me down by
Taking my things
Ripping my projects
Taking my books out of my hands
And accidentally spilling your school milk all over it
And they say people never cry over spilled milk
Talking behind my back was nothing new
Even for the teachers
My supposed guardians
They could be the worst of them all
Not even sparing me a glance to see the pain
Behind my eyes, my smile
For I still wore my smile
People can be cruel
My entire grade against me
Convincing the nurse that I was unhygienic
Convincing the principle I was a “bad kid”
Convincing myself that I wasn’t
Is that life?
They were all after my smile
After every physical attack
They tried to wipe the grin off my face
But I stood strong
My biggest mistake
Third came the mental abuse
When I started to realize
That something was going terribly
My mind saw people as a threat
Their words, bullets
Shot left and right
One after the other
I tried to find out
Why I kept smiling
Why I kept thinking
That it would get better
The letters hit me like a freight train
I know it was associated from people in war
Those in other countries fighting for our people
My war was more invisible
On home turf
With nowhere for me to run
I was stuck
My war was hell
My war is hell
My mental illness is no joke
Anxiety and panic attacks following close
Afraid to let go
Afraid that I would leave them behind
My PTSD is no joke
The night terrors keeping me up
I’m afraid to fall asleep
Going to school with bags under my eyes is a prettier site
Than me screaming in the night
I couldn’t make friends my freshman year of college
I couldn’t look anyone in the eye
When people asked if I wanted to sit with them for a meal
Said no thanks
And braced for a punch
For my body was always braced
My body was always ready for abuse
My brain was numb
Numb to people
Numb to their actions
Numb to my internal screams
How a couple people during recess in preschool
Turned me into this
A phobia of meeting people
Because that’s coupled with abuse
And that doesn’t always mean getting punched
It all started with a couple people
And it ended with a life-long mental disorder
Their hateful words define me every time someone new talks to me
Their terrifying glances define me when I catch a stranger’s gaze
Their punches define me
Their attacks define me
It all defines me
So why smile?
That person that helped pick up my books in the hallway defines me
That person that picked my face up from the mulch defines me
That person that told them all to “cut it out” defines me
That person that smiled at me defines me
That person that said “hi” to me defines me
While the bad took its toll
The good took its place
As the staircase
As the sunshine
As the only hope I had left to hang on to
For these positive actions
Overshadowed the bad ones
Even if they happened less often
It taught me that my smile
Could mean someone’s entire world
Could mean life and death
Could save me
I sit here trying to be quiet.
I sit here trying not to yell at someone.
I sit here holding back tears and fears.
I sit here with rushing thoughts of death.
I sit here biting my tongue.
I sit here and listen to their words go in one ear and out the other.
I sit here trying to keep calm.
I sit here with dreadful feelings.
I sit here alone.
I sit here in class and no one sees how bad it is.
I sit here and no one cares about the ones with darkness in their heart.
The world stands still
And a silent scream
The synthetic walls
As people transform
To hollow statues
Void of consciousness
A million miles
Away from here
The scream gets louder
And fills my empty chest
Every inch of peace
Out of my pulsating veins
On the edge of a cliff
And with every pulsating heartbeat
I loosen my grip
As words slip from my mind
The hands on the clock
Spiral down to hell
Taking my sanity with it
And I just
Till I'm numb
It fades away
I am saved
Mary had a cute little lamb.
She also had a husband.
The husband's name is Muhammad.
Muhammad loved the lamb too.
Muhammad ate it on Bakrid after slowly slitting its jugular vein.
Then Mary was so very sad.
Muhammad told her that he felt equally bad.
But the spirit of Eid-Ul-Adha is to make sacrifices.
The prophet had sacrificed his loved sons.
Same goes for the symbolic sacrificial goats that they eat in grief.
Ignore the pristine preparation of the lamb of God.
And anyone killed in suicide attacks is also a Fedayeen.
15 years later, the America has changed forever.
And it's sad to see airplanes destroying the World Trade Center, The Pentagon in Washington D.C. and even 1 airplane landing down in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
As we pray for memories for those who were killed in the 9/11 attacks on this tragic day, we will never forget you, your friends and your family for the past couple of years.
So, from now on, things will soon to be changed for next year and we are promise this will never happen again in Massachusetts for a very long time.
sit down and listen to the sounds of the world.
the gun shots and explosions echo through continents
and you hear the pleas of the hurt and murdered.
the night's music fades to white noise and screams in the ears of men who loved men,
the black woman is trapped in the passenger seat after watching her black lover get shot by a cop for a headlight,
a thousand muslims are hurt and killed in the midst of a holy celebration,
young boys and girls no longer laugh but cry in desperation.
people are killing in the name of faith, and color, and love they deem wrong,
the body count gets higher and higher
as the tears cried and the blood shed
form a well the world is drowning in.
the sweet smell of life turns to death and grieving,
and in times like these, we stand for the threatened, we heal the hurt and broken.
with your voice, tell stories of the murdered and their kind that show they're human too.
with your arms, fight for rights and understanding the oppressed deserve.
with your hands, help and guide the ones who are now afraid.
and with your heart, love radically
until love is enough to put the pieces of this world back together.