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 Oct 2014 Warda Kashif
lolosworld
I miss calling you beautiful.
I miss rubbing your back.
I miss telling you I love you.
Now baby that’s a fact.

I miss your deep blue eyes.
They roll backwards when I tell a lie.
When you rubbed your fingers through my long hair.
Baby now I’m aware.
its been a long time coming.
You’d say family and I’d start running.
But one thing that I regret.
Is that this song is not a duet.
But If it was then I sure wish.
It’d be filled with words that go something like this.
“I miss laying down with you.
Telling you to shave if you needed to.
Having the house cleaned and dinner  made.
By the time you got home so you had time to lay.
Every night asking for a back rub.
And saving every ticket stub.
And putting them to use.
In the photo album that I made for you.
The twitch you get when you look at me. Warms me up makes me feel happy.
When you warned your family was crazy.
But they loved me so I disagreed.
They all still call and keep in touch.
Even though we don’t talk much.
The break in my heart when I had to leave.
Only shined light on my reprieve.”

But the day you left I fell apart.
I had an ice age inside my heart.
I’ve been so close to running back.
Pretending this dispute was just an act.
But then again I always seem.
To steer myself away from happy.
Knowing that you’re the only girl for me.
I always think of how I did you wrong.
Not telling you but writing in a song.
And hoping one day you can detect the clues.
To the pictures I’m writing in all the skies for you
 Oct 2014 Warda Kashif
M
Homesick
 Oct 2014 Warda Kashif
M
Homesick in my own home because home isn't a place,
It's the feeling of belonging and those who make me feel so live so far away.

Homesick in my own town where I was born and raised,
Homesick for the people that I love, for the people I wish had stayed.
I can't even remember the last time
I cried,
And someone held me close,
And told me it was going to be alright.
It feels so good to cry.

But it feels better with someone by your side.
Everyone hates me.

They think I'm the bad guy.
I'm the hater.
The negative vibe.
The one who kills.
The Devil.

They don't think I have feelings.
They think I don't care,
That I like being here.
That it doesn't **** me
To have Satan as father.

Do you think I'm proud
That he was banished from heaven?
That I like
Watching people suffer?

Death is not my specialty-
It never was.
I pray secretly
For a better life.

Helping, apparently,
Is a sin.
The smell of demise
Leaves me melancholy.

My tears
Are tattooed on my face.

These harsh words
Have been engraved onto my skin.
I have never been happy
With a sinner for a dad.

How can I pray to God,
When he is the spoken enemy?

How can I hope
When it has been crushed by all his followers?

I don't have friends-
They're all scared of me.

I have only lived to see
Fear.
No one has ever loved these red eyes.

Red from crying.
Red from hurting.
Red from a broken heart.

I can only write my ache.
But no matter how I try,
No one can relate.
Or care.

The worst kind of pain
Is the one that cannot be described.

That's me,
The indescribable agony.
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