Today I was accused to being a bad influence yet again,
Simply because I facilitate the forbidden wants/needs of the people I love,
Simply because I give them a place to get high and vent without being judged,
Simply because I create an aura where they feel free to express themselves in whatever ways they like- modest, humble even ******,
And simply because the ones they love refuse to facilitate their haram (forbidden).
Haram is bad – we all know this
But being human is about passing through all things good and all things bad.
Being a Muslim, most of my choices are haram;
Not properly attired to the laws of my religion,
My speech is not of a young lady with modesty- rather it is defined with sheer profanity,
I rather laugh from my heart even though it’s supposedly a *****’s act,
I refuse to lower my gaze around men; the same men that stole from me
The same men that refused to lower their gaze from me.
I deny myself the potential for love because of the expectation of great dismay
And I drown myself with the 34000 thoughts of what if??!
This poem is becoming a disaster; my thoughts aren’t flowing straight,
I went from bad influence to haram to rebellious to depressing;
What the **** is this **** going on inside my head- it aches with great displeasure.
How do I contain my contradicting self?
Someone help me please, my soul is crying and sobbing for something to fill this void-
The void that is desperately trying to full itself with the acceptance of the people who are hell bent on not accepting me.
Why am I like this? A contradicting ******* disaster
A container with infinite capabilities
Contains concern, doubt, mistrust
The emptiness is full
Filled with shapes
Contain, hold, isolate
Same meaning, different capabilities
Choose the container’s purpose
Close it with a thought
To unveil your next path
The first poem I've written in years
He looked better in a mask than I did without.
‘The World Health Organization (WHO) is considering changing its guidance on whether people should wear face masks in public, prompted by new evidence that suggests doing so could help contain the pandemic.’
- Hannah Devlin and Denis Campbell
Looking through my drafts I found this micro - an unusable remnant from a longer piece about keeping up appearances. A word written without a second thought to connote pretence or disguise, now gives me reason to pause. To mask, or not to mask, that is the question. :§
dripped in honey,
a golden sheen
between your fingers
were not made
to contain me.
a 5-part series of a style i'm exploring.
You better practice.
The alacrity with which we crawl is grievous
We aren't laughing.
We're the ******* and you can not deceive us
We envelope the view of stolen streets
and only speak
to show the fury stoked beneath the yoke
and only speak until we don't
We know that it's enough.
We know that's all it takes.
To only speak.
For us to say that you are weak
and you rely on our feet
for what's involved in your deceit
That's all it takes for you to falter.
We chew the noose and loosen halter
But once the halter loosens your abuses,
still within the 'blood and soil',
boil over our brims and filter fire out
Contain us or try.
It won't matter.
We know the saints and the lies,
and you'll get fatter.
And you'll be food for the flies
and we won't choose to abide;
to let the bruises subside.
We're unhinged in every way we know can chew you inside.
It won't be talking.
We know that it's enough to scare you
But your fear won't be enough to spare you.
love wash them as waves,
neither he or she grabs it;
where would it contain?
Sometimes I toss and turn at night
I can feel a thousand others do the same
We all lie awake with these thoughts dripping from the faucet of our brain
We always try
To turn the handle
Make them stop
Yet every attempt is in vain
There is nothing we could do to keep these thoughts contained
There is no drain for them to slip away
Instead they cause a flood in our minds
They make you realize there is no way to rewind
Trapped once again by the bars hidden behind our eyes
We continue to toss and turn
Attempting to shake away the truth of our mortality and find a way to dream of a place where happiness is not bought
These thoughts at night are louder than in the day
They scream like sirens
And you can't turn them off
Accidentally published it before I finished it oops
Why are you trying to be his world?
He can't contain every star in your body.
Every galaxy in your eyes
Whenever the whole solar system would spin on your smile.
Don't let anybody tell you, you're not enough
steel and glass contain
assuaged by structure
the wind blows
but not here
I stand here
beneath the secrets piling over me
at the edge, looking at how I spill out of my own body.
Not able to contain myself.
Not able to restain myself
from looking into the darkness,
from looking into the depth of me
where lies the skeletons of many friendships
and one rare love.
Many managed to stay afloat
not wanting to be a part of me,
knowing what I was.
While I just wanted them to stay
for a moment
to tell me what they knew
tell me what I was.
So that I may not feel
like an impostor in my own life.