It's ok to smile at people.

Beneath the willow that wept at the lake's edge,
I sat nestled between the soft 'V' of branches that rose only to fall.
The wind kept a soothing sway that ever so gently left ripples in the moon's reflection.
With a book and pen in hand, I wrote the next lines to a story.

Along came a woman.
Her hair as silver as a blade, and her skin as pale as porcelain.
She descended to her knees with the grace of a queen,
Cupping her hands to sip from the lake.

I glared in awe, as if seeing a spirit from a folk tale.
What beauty, what grace... and yet, here she was.
She leaned back, falling to the grass, with her eyes finally resting on me.

Not a flinch.

She gazed back at me...
The same wonder in her eyes
As I held for her.

“Come on”
    “Shut up”
         “Behave”
   when one day I burst into flame
     when every notebook I held burned up
           when dusty soot from attempts at art
                                                        just flew away
blinded by the pain
       it’s difficult to see
when every bed is flammable
                       it’s difficult to sleep
       enough sleep deprivation would
                                     drive anyone insane
“Don’t play the victim”
              “Don’t ask for pity”
      “Stop your constant complaints”
                      “Don’t give the fire
                                     power of mind
                                         allow it to grow
                                            into its own entity”
alive but aflame
   hiding with all my might
            they kept asking more
                                  “Be normal”
                                            "Helpful"
   ­                         “Smile for ***** sake ”
               while every glimpse of real
                          gave them a fright
when I in desperation sought
                        for water
                  at any cost
   just make the pain stop
                  while their words
                          created drought
in my life
  of burning flesh
      I kept trying to forget
                                start fresh
                got so good at pretending
                             invisible flames
            my life slowly ending
                 just not aloud
    my silence during emergency
             made them proud
when there was barely any left
  turned to dusty soot myself
     turned mute
        I dropped to my knees
                        I begged
they didn’t waste any time
         before saying
                                  “You have to understand,
                    everyone gets a little hot sometimes”

My life is beautiful, a canvas wide,

Painted with colors that coincide

.Each stroke of joy, each hue of pain

, A masterpiece born from sun and rain.

The mornings whisper with golden light

"Everything is good and dreams are the light"

Each laughter makes me proud as the sun

Each tear makes me happy as the rain run

Through shadowed paths and skies so blue ,I find my strength, my heart stays true.

From every shadow, light will rise,  

Through every doubt, hope never dies.

Your life is as beautiful as mine.

.............................................MI. Fathima Asna

I’ve been meaning to say something,
but the words never feel right.
It’s strange how distance grows
even when I can’t stop thinking about you—
which is funny because
I’ve memorized the way
your face leans toward the light,
as if it’s drawn to something
only you can see.

Your eyes—
deep and restless—
carry a weight
you think you’re hiding,
but it’s there,
a quiet storm I can’t look away from.

the way your smile curves,
unintentional yet disarming,
the way you stain my thoughts
like a song i can't unhear

I wonder if you know
how many times I’ve written you
into a sentence I couldn’t finish,
how often I’ve reached
for a silence
only you could fill.