Drowning in
Dread
From toes to
Head
Falling a
Part
From end to
Start
Weeping clear
Tears
Indulged in
Fears
Loss of my
Rights
Losing the
Fights
Illegal mar
Iages
High priced tar
Iffs
Corrupt and
Gone
Mauled and
Drawn
Hicking up
Sobs
Filling cupped
Jaws
Screaming in
Pain
Shouting in
Vain
Drowning in
Dread
From toes to
Head

it gets better with time.
it gets easier to interrupt the chain reaction,
to stop following down the rabbit hole
of every first subconscious reaction
that triggers a well-tried response.
and if you don't give up on trying
the hope might just carry you through
and across the finish line.
what you have been suffering from
doesn't define you,
but it does get better with time.

the day the bombs fell
my house was disintegrated
every plank of pseudo wood
every glimmer of glass
every picture frame that held us in place
everything; except for the fake flowers on the dining table

amidst the shadowed quiet world they stood
even though they don't need sunlight
they beckon the sun to come closer
but no matter how close it comes
the flowers will feel no warmth

they wont ever feel the wonder of photosynthesis coursing through their stems
and into their still golden petals
its not as if they felt anything ever
im not particularly sure about real flowers' feelings either

dont ask me how they made it through the impact because i dont have an answer
maybe the pakistani laborers decided to put in a little more effort for their pennies one day
because the single impurity was a petal with ghostly spots on it
something you would see on an old love letter your grandma wrote

and that petal was the first to fall
no one was there to see it fall
and the world was so topsy turvy that it could've fallen upwards towards the ashy clouds
or it could have defined its own set of physics
a philosophical query in its own right
it could have also just floated there
in the absence of anything
alone

sometimes it's a wonderful thought, being alone
i envy that petal
it could get away from the rest quickly, painfully, easily
maybe it was quick, painless, and easy because there was nothing left in the world to make it hard
i mean its not like there are any biomolecular bonds to keep the petal from falling
there aren't any living organisms feeding on its non existent nectar
and it didn't need any of those things in the first place
they're fake
simple and fake

i don't know why we kept them around
i guess it made everything feel better amidst the chaos of our home
mama yelling at my sister when she doesn't do her homework
daddy yelling at mama when she yells at my sister
and me sitting in my room
also alone but also very much surrounded by the things that i desperately want to get away from

that's why i envy the plastic flower
even in a world where the sun doesn't shine
where the birds don't sing
where the rain doesn't fall
it doesn't need any of the things i need
unfortunately i need oxygen and sunlight and love

it got love just for looking pretty
impossible for someone like me
maybe i am pretty to someone else
but it certainly never got me anywhere
never paid for my dinners
never got me a kiss in the rain
never got me flowers from passersby

but these flowers could just sit there on the table
not even living
and soak up all the love that is now lost to the ashes

its petals fell slowly over centuries
the table, half disintegrated, rotted from beneath the nonsensical flower ***
the remnants of the walls collapsed in on themselves
narrowly missing the flowers
resistant bugs ran to the flower for mercy
but died in its shadow realizing that their cries for sweet nectar were futile and their journey to Mecca was a hoax

over time my home became much like modern day Chernobyl
full of life and light and fresh air
pockets of radioactivity kept the living beings in check
and the fake petals of the fake flowers scattered across this newfound land
the last remnants of human life on Earth
it's almost silly to think about

we got up that day and didn't expect anything new to happen
the same old grind, same old food, same old people, same old rhymes
but the day ended with a skin breaking flash
and the sound of everything dying reached us before our deaths

it was rather slow actually.

The years and tasks have taken their toll
Now gray in my beard and shine on my skull
But the nicotine hits, and helps pass the time
Still feel something missing, like I'm out of a rhyme

The friends and music that once filled the air
Now silent, replaced by the burdens we bear
But I've come to accept what the years have unfurled
The past may be gone, but I've got my own world

For in their small hands, I see a love so true
Their future is bright and it makes mine too

I give myself a cheery wave,
I deserve a good start at least.
This time is more confident, knowing, loved.

This time
The reflection stays and basks
in the warmth of the love reflected.
The smile is calm, accepting and comfortable.

What once was a shell
has cascaded as it rolled down the hill
gained momentum,
picking things up along the way,
gaining speed and ******* soaring.

Shell no longer, my bounty is full
and I couldn't be more grateful.
My insides are starting to match
my expectations of my outsides again
which feels good.
More than that--I feel like myself.

Heya friend!
I call to my reflection.
Her eyes crinkle and she smiles
throwing the peace sign,
Then she gives me a serious look
and points to our heart
and mouths:

"Protect It,
But Don't Waste Your Potential.
Go Love. Be Loved. Be Love."

She turns to go,
But over her shoulder she turns
and says:

"By the way, I'm proud of you.
I'm proud to reflect who you have become.
You deserve all the happiness life can bring
and all the sadness that sharpens the joy.
Now the goal is to experience everything,
Take it all in,
Don't take any of it for granted
and worship life.
Love and worship really living."

My reflection doesn't leave me,
Even when things are rough these days,
I have learned a lot in days numbered, years, decades,
I can't reclaim my youth
but I can avoid its mistakes for my own sake.

This world is scary enough right now,
People sowing the hatred that snuffs out light
That breaks the glass of shops and places of prayer
and homes of people
who just want to be able to live their best lives,
my hopes for the future dwindle low
but my candle still burns,
and with a thousand candles
and two thousand feet
and ten thousand fingers raised
maybe someone will see
maybe it will cause change?

What will it take?
I hope violence isn't the answer.
I have a family to raise.
A life to live.
In the community I want to make friends in.
I don't want this,
But I have to be a good example
To the generations who come and will
Need. Good. Examples.

I feed my reflection positivity now.
I feed my reflection ferocity and the willingness to speak up.
I feed my reflection hope with motivation to enact change.
I feed my reflection the willingness to accept flaws.
I feed my reflection patience to understand others' perspectives.

A few things have changed though.
We hardened up a little bit.
Around the block a little bit.
I don't put up with narcissist *******,
I handle myself with decorum but push me
and I bite back,
Verbally. Don't talk to me
as if you already know me

I have friends and you friend
are not a friend so go back to
Your friends, this conversation
Is at an end.

What feminine people go through
while you can come out stronger,
it takes a lot of tumbling to get that
gem nice and shiny.

Starting a new chapter,
Me.
I think we've made good choices so far
that led us here.
There are some weird bumps ahead,
But I think with the support of partners
and loves and lovers and friends
We will help each other get through this
Fighting when we have to,
Leaning on each other,
And never forgetting what we're fighting for.

I have begun to forget who I was before I met you.

The thoughts that used to consume me are growing hazy.
The life I once desired seems more like a fictional novel, a character, a bedtime story.
It's distant.
It's no longer mine.

I'm no longer sure there was a before.
It only feels like there's a now.
It only feels like there's our future.

I stand in front of a stone library
that once held great knowledge therein,
but stands now empty under skies dreary.
I whisper a prayer for our sins:

Please, Lord, let the children who follow us
grow wiser than we ever were.
Let them yet be the loving kindness
that we have signally failed to confer.

I doubt that they will ever forgive us
for this fallen world that we’re handing down
thanks to all the blind disservice
by leaving little but ash on the ground.

Before us all stand two stone gates
each leading to diverging roads:
The one leads to our visible fate
while the other fate overthrows.

Please, Lord, let those born in these days
choose the path of the unknown
instead of taking the road that behind us lays:
They shall our foolishness swiftly outgrow.

What few blessings I may pass on to you,
O dear reader of the future’s present,
I give you freely in hopes of a new
rebirth in a world without end, amen.