He'd always leave at 2:53 P.M.
Swoosh fwoump.

It was only a matter of time,
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-ti

I wanted to be free.

He'd strap me to a chair and whisper,
sweet stories that you'd coo to *a child,
with sour breath running down my neck,
his greasy forehead pressed against my tear-stricken cheeks;
it'd deteriorate and culture in my ears.

His scent engulfed my mind,
my body, my soul...

He made a grave mistake,
dressing me in grimy socks,
making me dance skin-to-skin,
forcing me to kiss him, call him.

Oh no, you see,
he should have known.

I betrayed his trust, I'd pay the price,
"Isn't that right, Leila?"
That's not my name.

"Now Leila, darling, you're going to be a good girl,
for Daddy, aren't you?"
That's not my name.

"Leila, sweetheart, I can trust you, can't I?
Hmm? This will be our little secret,"
That's not my name.

"Aw, don't tell me, dear, beautiful Leila,
you aren't scared, are you?"
That's not my name.

I knew him well,
after a few months,
and his smell was musty,
only when I let it be.

He always liked sweets,
like me.

He was disgusting,
and my wrists ran red with incisions;
he'd lick them clean.

He'd always leave at 2:53.

"Oh Leila, sweetheart, I expect dinner when I get back,
won't you be a good girl,
and do as Daddy taught you?"
That's not my name.

So I did.

This kitchen was charming,
as much as his worn dining ware,
lined with cracked roses painted by Chinese overseas,
wondering when they would be used.

This was the first time I'd seen him genuinely smile,
"You look especially beautiful, tonight, Leila,
perhaps it's the sparkle in your eye,"
That's not my name.

He took a sip.

His glossy eyes hovered above his glass,
and his gaze drifted over to me,
in my grimy socks and brown-stained apron,
my long, dark hair drapped over my shoulders.

Another glass,
another glass,
another glass,
glass,
sugary sweet,
sweet,
down his lips,
lips,
lips,
teeth,
throat,
liver.

He liked sweets,
sweets,
sweets,
dripping, sipping,
sweet,
sugary sweet, nectar,
cool, smooth,
antifreeze.

He'd always leave at 2:53.

Silence.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-ti-

2:53 P.M.

Silence at 2:00-
2:00
2:00

I'd heard him cry,
"Leila, Leila, Leila,"
That's not my name.

He'd always leave at 2:53,
2:00,
silence.
He would never leave at 2:53,
2:53 P.M.

*I left at 2:53. Silence.

Leila,
sometimes I wonder if people's hearts,
are as dark as your hair.
Sometimes I wonder if their hate,
is deeper than your beauty,
and that smile you share.
Sometimes I wonder if their greed,
is as enormous as the void I find in your eyes,
which nothing but finding hope,
of care.
Leila, forgive them.

Leila,
is that song you look for,
when fires smolder you're entity's emotions.
is that song you look for,
when you should of yourself be caution.
is the song you look for,
when you want to cleanse your soul,
cleanse it of people's defiled ambition.
Leila, forgive them.

Leila,
with your earned sorrow you passed an ocean,
and carried a dead father's watch,
a watch to remind a paralyzed mother,
of for whom she once ran for, with devotion.
She once prayed for time to pass,
To see her love,
And now, time turned into a compulsion,
That stops her from living,
And tuned into a con,
Instead of a meditation.
Leila, forgive them.

Leila,
Drunken sun -
Aches from loneliness
In the space where noone it,she shares
Drunken sun -
The vacancy of company it faces
Keeps rotating there,In endless mazes
Drunken sun -
It shows its pain, it spreads blazes
That's the only difference between you,
And the drunken sun
you keep to yourself all the pain
In all cases,
Drunken sun,
Is trapped there,in the spaces
just like you, in the past's vases.

Margaret Elizabeth porta un senso assassino di vestiti da sposa stile a qualsiasi cosa che fa .Che si tratti di progettare per la sua linea di gioielli o styling il suo pad città .non c'è dubbio che questa ragazza è uno da guardare .Ultime sulla sua lista di successi ?Sposarsi con il suo bel fidanzato .sulle rive del Rhode Island.E ' tutto ciò che vi aspettereste da un designer di talento come un matto.e Leila Brewster non perde un colpo .Date un'occhiata nella galleria completa



di chicche (tra cui peonie rosa a'plenty da Sayles Livingston Fiori !) .E non perdetevi il film giorno delle nozze da 3 Belles Productions abiti da sposa 2014 .
Si prega di aggiornare il tuo browserShare questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsSummerSettingsCountry ClubStylesCoastal

Da Sposa ( progettista e proprietario di Margaret Elizabeth) .** sempre immaginato sposarmi presso il Dune Club .circondato da una grande varietà di familiari e amici .Il posto era davvero importante per noi .come abbiamo entrambi amiamo l'acqua e voleva sposarsi in riva al mare .Il Dune Club è un luogo particolarmente speciale per me causa di tutto il tempo che ** trascorso con la mia grande famiglia allargata .Mia nonna era una wedding planner incredibilmente di talento e abbiamo trascorso ore e ore seduto su quella spiaggia.molto sognare di questo giorno .Dal momento che lei non è più con noi .volevo essere sicuro che ** incorporato il maggior numero di elementi possibile da quelle conversazioni lato della spiaggia .

nostre tovaglie erano una di quelle cose .Abbiamo lavorato con biancheria La Tavola a venire con un corallo .crema e oro picchiettato schema dei colori e Sayles Livingston per tutti i fiori .Squadra Sayles ' creato le strutture ramo che pendevano sopra i tavoli .** amato questi perché hanno creato una sensazione che ricorda di Sonoma .in California .una delle nostre città costa occidentale preferita e il luogo del nostro impegno .Mentre l' arredamento e del nostro matrimonio era così divertente per la progettazione .la maggior parte del nostro weekend stava trascorrendo del tempo con tutti i nostri amici e parenti che si sono recati a Rhode Island per festeggiare con noi .

Il mio momento preferito del vestiti da sposa matrimonio era proprio dopo la cerimonia - Lane e mi aveva appena finito di camminare lungo la navata e abbiamo avuto questo momento breve dove c'eravamo solo noi in piedi sul prato .guardando verso l'oceano .È stato un momento tranquillo e bello che sarò sempre tesoro

Fotografia : Leila Brewster | Cinematografia : . 3 Belles Productions | Event Design : The Bride | design floreale : Sayles Livingston Flowers | Abito da sposa: Monique Lhuillier | Cancelleria: Smock Letterpress| Scarpe : Valentino | Altri Abiti : Ivy e Aster | Abbigliamento dello sposo : Hugo Boss | Catering .Torta + Dessert : The Dunes Club | Hair + Trucco : La La Luxe | Gioielli : Margaret Elizabeth | Biancheria: La Tavola | Veil + capelliaccessori: made ​​by Bride | Sede : The Dunes Club | vino: Bluebird ViniIvy \u0026 Aster e Monique Lhuillier sono membri della nostra Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui .Sayles Livingston Progettazione e noleggio La Tavola bisso sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Sayles Livingston design VIEW PORTFOLIO La Tavola bisso Affitto
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Mashrou’ Leila will lead the revolution
Songs made in my country never fought the system
They never expressed what the youth wanted
or how they really felt about themselves
But their songs make us dream to the Marrikh
They give us a connection to reality in Fasateen
They expressed what the society of spectacle is in only 3 minutes
We could think about our ex in Ala babu
We are able to remember our country in Lel watan
How we always live in a state of exile in **** El-Khandaq
Manipulations In a daily life in Taxi
Grief and tough love in Abdo
Evolution and infinite surrenders in Wa Nueid
The barriers of language and sexuality in Kalaam
The devastating stages of a separation in Bahr
The closeness of strangers in Habibi
They are The Doors of our generation
They made crowds go crazy just like The Rolling Stones
But at the same time they were pure and melancholic just like Jeff Buckley
Thank you for keeping us alive in dark days and heavy nights
Your music will always give us new and unfamiliar feelings

It's 8:00pm
and Carlos picks me up.
Full bottles of ***** litering his
floorboards.
Hartwell in the passenger seat,
I sit behind him.
Leila in the middle
and Will on the far left.
Will is already drunk

It's 9:00pm
and I walk into Dylan's house.
Loud music blaring from his speakers.
My bag on the ground,
the ***** and beer on the table.
I mix the drinks because Leila doesn't know how.

It's 10:00pm
and every one is here.
Will and I sit together.
He is so drunk, and I am named the babysitter.
I make small talk while sipping the horrible jungle juice Leila ****** up.
My jungle juice was better.
I hand Robbie a 10.
He buys more Mountain Dew to mix more.

It's 11:00pm
and I get a call from Joseph.
"Is it weird if I stop by?"
I utter no and ask Mr. Ed for the address.
I run inside to tell Leila.
She hands me a shot of fireball.
I threw it back like a pro.
Luke hands me the jungle juice.
I chug.

It's 11:15pm
and Joseph calls
"I'm outside."
I walk by Will to act normal.
"I want ******* hookers and blow."
He's ****** up.
He looks up behind me,
and I turn around.
Joseph towers over me,
and without thinking I throw my hands around him.
I'm choking back tears.

It's 11:30pm
and I drunkenly drag Joseph outside.
He knows I want to talk.
No words,
only tears.
I cry into his arms for what seems like forever.
He promises to never leave me again.

It's 11:50
and Dylan yells for every one to go outside.
The countdown begins.

It's 11:59
and we wait.
5..
4..
3..
2..
1..
"HAPPY NEW YEAR."
Carlos is the first to hug me.
Will passes out on a car.

It's 12:03am
and I try to wake Will up.
He finally comes to it.
He somewhat runs inside for more alcohol.
I hastily follow.

It's 12:10am
and Carlos is pouring shots of ***** for the 3
of us.
We drink.
Carlos runs to the sink.
I get him water.
Every one comes back inside.

It's 12:15am
and Carlos hands me champagne
which he refused to give to anyone else.
I drink.

It's 12:30am
and Joseph has to leave.
I beg him not to.
He says he'll see me Saturday.

It's past 1:00am
and Will is in sick in the bathroom.
I take care of him.
Leila comes in
and makes herself puke because she drank too much.
Will cries because he doesn't like seeing his sister like that.
I hold him.

It's past 2:00am
and Carlos is the first one out.
We find spots to sleep.
I'm sandwiched between a snoring Carlos
and a different Joseph on the sofa.
Will is at the bottom.
Hartwell sleeps on the floor.

It's past 3:00am
and every one is alseep.
I lie awake thinking how good it is
to start 2016 this way.

Behold the One with the Aries, the Ward of Santa Muerte
Our 16th President voted by 16 million Filipinos this 2016
The 1st President from Mindanao from being Mayor of Davao…Duterte!

He is One with MiJoRdGr (Miriam, Jojo, Rody, Grace)
The 4 Opposition Presidentiables who defeated Mar Roxas
And brought Liberal Party its great disgrace!

The One with the Aries from the Land with War
The Land of Promise – feared by typhoons, but filled with goons
So from her came a Liberator among MiJoRdGr!

That this One should war with our nation’s greatest horrors
-Drug Lords, Liberals, Treasoners, Criminals & Terrorists-
These powerful entities to our history are desecrators!

So by being one with lawmakers, law enforcers & lawful people
By the overwhelming power of the Supermajority
Our country’s greatest terrors…Du30 shall conquer them all!

But first, he must defeat his detractors – Leila, Leni & Trillanes
These triple crooks who want to topple the government
Are also said to be conspiring with EU, UN & US!

Yet with Trump’s triumph, US is no longer an enemy
Our American hatred weakened, our Chinese friendship strengthened
As it established great friendship with Pres. Du30!

Do not emulate the girl power of those Liberal crooks
We got an Olympic medalist Heidilyn & Ms. International 2016
But Leila & Leni?...Can only ruin our country…like blasted nukes!

Do not worry for we have Pacquiao as still winner & role model
Alongwith Gen. Bato, a victim of yellow washing machine
But these Pro-Du30 men…to criminals tough, to innocents gentle!

May God allow this True Change to take place with continuity
Let Pres. Duterte lead us for many more years to come
For the Supermajority, for you & me… for our country!

-12/30/2016
(Dumarao)
*Our Golden Times During PDu30

In the months before my wedding,
I searched for a special perfume
high and low, sampling scents,
making everyone crazy with
"What do you think of this one?"
My reason for obsessing was this:
to smell this fragrance
and be instantly taken back to the day I married
the man that I love; my best friend.
Because scents can trigger memories.
When we smell, the scents and odors around us
get routed through our olfactory system
which, in short, is closely connected
to the regions of the brain
that handle our memories and emotions

So one day, I opened a package
which held one of many, many, samples I purchased inside.
with notes of gardenia, jasmine, rose and a personal favorite, violet leaf - I thought I would enjoy it
however, this small vial held more than I ever expected.
I removed the stopper, and took a big whiff...

A warm floral scent, with a soapy musk, a slight spice
Suddenly, without any warning...
I was in a small, white bedroom, with two twin beds
a table between them, and on top, the lamp filled with shells.
The window with lacey curtains.
The two small shelves on the right wall with trinkets -
the dolls at the foot of the bed by the door
I could see the closet, with all the special clothes
the ones us grandkids wore to play dress up
and there, in the middle of everything, was the vanity.
That special vanity we couldn't touch, but secretly did
I could see the old makeup on top the warm stained, wooden vanity with the big mirror,
and the little bench
which sitting on made you feel so special.
In the middle of the memory,
I could smell it... this perfume
I knew it wasn't the same, but it smelled exactly like that room
like her...
like my grandma

I could almost hear her in the kitchen, yelling behind the closed door
"You kids better not get in my stuff!"
she always let us play in that special room
   that little bedroom, once shared by siblings
always mad when we played with her things,
but she never stopped letting us play in that room

I remembered where I was,
and felt the wet tears in my eyes
But I kept smelling... (inhale)
hair rollers, and combs
doilies and the sandwich cookies
her black as night coffee and how she drank it at all hours
the giant backyard, and how it seemed to stretch for miles - a place to get lost and have adventures
the clothesline we would always hang off of,
   for which we always got into trouble
the kitchen island, and the barstools
   grandma always got on to us about kicking our short legs and marking up her cabinets
the special character cups collected over the years
that were for just us kids to drink from
I can see all the fridge magnets,
pictures and trinkets of all the places she and grandpa had been - all the places they planned to go
I remember Christmas, and the tree shaped birthday cake for Jesus
how she made us sing Happy Birthday to Jesus
and the mice, oh the mice
   only Grandma, only Leila James
   would collect figurines of something she was afraid of

I remember where I am, in my room
but I can smell her perfume
and can hear her sass and her jokes
   I can hear her speaking the colorful language of a sailor
I remember the weeks we stayed with grandma and grandpa, when a hurricane took our home
   In all the frustration and heartbreak
   she told me it was rough, but I needed to be strong

I remember when I am
I remember that she has too slowly forgotten
No matter how strong the will
the mind does not remember
but I will remember, my small piece
I know so many others knew her better than me
We all remember when she began to forget
She started asking all of us grandkids
"When are you getting married?"
and now I know I can't look in the aisles and see her face

I never thought I would be without a grandmother on my wedding day
I never really thought I would ever get married
But I certainly never imagined without three fourths of a generation

I remember the night I wrote these memories down
the day she died, a day that was strange,
a day that I knew hurt her husband and children,
a day I knew she was finally at peace.
I remember the decision I made that night...
When I smell this fragrance, I smell her
maybe it only smells like her to me
I know if she were here, that is how she would smell
standing next to me in pictures
and telling me to shrink down because I was taller than her
On my wedding day, I want to know the ones I have lost are present in spirit
I want to wear my grandma's perfume

I woke up to my niece this morning
I love her
I was there the day she was born
7 pounds 14 ounces
I've been there pretty much every day since
I'll be there the day she graduates high school
I'll be there the day she's married to the love of her life
I want one, a daughter to love and to spoil
I went to the doctor's today
Oh...
Well

What should we have expected from new ascents?
You think there is simple safety in messages sent?
Melancholic waves descend, lonely veins sink in,
If I was simple before, you'd be able to see,
See through the extremities that bounded me.

But how could a flower begin these internal spins?
Bounded by piety to seek love away from sin,
Destined, we hope that this one will sink in.
If life's a play then this one is just pretend,
And the toil of tragedy, revealed at play's end.

But if this life is an Odysseun ode,
Then oh! the wonders to be told!
For each new ascent, a heroic tale,
On the way down, purified hail.

For we have cast Circe like Jonah's whale,
And fly alongside a dove's tail,
Whose wings spread in glorious white,
Revealing Leila, mistress of the night.

Place: Balcony, Home
Time: 6am

Its a busy neighborhood. Everyone is carrying on their lives, some jogging around, buses hooting, busy people heading to work. Important stuff you know.
But Leila, without feeling contrite, holds her last glass of wine, its almost done. Am sure she lost count after her first glass. She was up by the first bird, way before the darkest of the hours. It looks chilly but she was on nothing but The t shirt, her favourite one with the words printed DEVOUR ME IF YOU DARE. Her nerves somehow went numb a while back, the only part that seemed to play its role in her system was her brain.

Why was she out here?
See, she didnt don't know.
But last thing she remember, she was on their couch. She'd  just prepared dinner waiting on her person to come. It had been a rough three weeks, but she was willing to try you know.


The door bell rang, and she rushed to open to welcome "bae", atleast take the coat or scarf...it was always warm but this time.

She was met a flying bag on her face that sent her sprawling on the coffee table. At that point you'd ask what went through her mind? NOTHING.
She just lay there, like a paralysis spell was cast on her.
"You will know who I am today" "bae" said

"...Wh..."she stuttered ...no word could come out of her mouth.

The worst thing ever is to be caught off guard by a situation and your defense knowledge shuts down with your brain. No  ***** at that point is willing to co-ordinate with the other body part to defend itself. You are just a log for a moment.

"So now you just hop into people's cars when you leave the house in the morning" "bae" screamt as the heaviest slap ever received, landed on Leila's face.
It got all echo-ey...she placed both her hands on her face as blows rained on her till she finally  managed to push "bae" away and try run out the house, it was locked.

She couldn't scream, this was the first time.

She hadn't  the slightest of ideas of what "bae" was talking about. She just held tightly onto the balcony bars.
For A second, she wanted to jump off. She wished to.

They lived at the 2nd floor, so it wasn't so far off the ground. She was pulled back and dropped to the floor  like some shoe.

She wailed for her mother who she hadn't seen in months.
She recalled wishing to live on the streets than the torture she went through that night.
One side of her face, let's say would need a tone of concealer the following morning when she went to work,because that morning, she had to call in sick. I mean, she couldn't use the "yeah right" statement of "I hit a window or door", c'mon, who you kidding sis!

So she left at night while "bae was asleep. That was after she cried a river plus all its tributaries and "bae" felt "remorse" of some sort, held her and begged her to stop crying offering to hold her through the night, but fell asleep barely 10 minutes after.

Leila crept outside the house at our balcony, with the bottle of wine that she had bought for them to have the previous night and decided to numb her pain by drowning myself in it.
She couldn't account for the hours she stayed out in the dark and the cold and getting drunk at the balcony...but the darkness felt like comfort...at that point heaven, the cold floor was her street of gold.


...This, was the first time.

©TheUnspoken

I have a habit
of hypnotizing myself
I like to put on my veil
a shroud of alteration
marry myself to the haze
again & again
I baptize everyday before I
light the world on fire
lose myself in the afterglow
live in the confusion

I love the girl who is
the sister of Leila, Ophelia, Astrid
o, Sweet Mother Mary
pray for me, stuck in melancholy
& losing ground
unity in Heaven's Rose
you are euphoria
mostly because I have
arranged my wills
to center & propel
those wills of yours
think for me
show me I can't live without you
can't
do for myself what you do for me
let's swim in the river
where I forget everything for a little while
enrapture me
all day every day all ways

Everything thing you are about to read is the whole truth, and nothing but...

she flew
via jet blue,
da coop

decamped urban lands,
leaving poet producing this
piece de (at-the-door poem-de crap) resistance:

Sad mad bad

where I asked?

a mountain in Mexico,
where purpled pink wild flowers decorate,
and the yoga mat is never rolled up
and post pampering included!

harrumph,
and worse,
exclaimed

NYC got florists
and yogi masters
for hire

with my sisters,
will commune,
hike by dawn light,
eat veggies day and night
and bone my body
with exercise

Manhattan got veggies, central parks,
and occasionally a pretty dawn,
bone doctors extraordinaire,
don't you know the best veggies,
grown in Whole Foods in the
Time Warner Center?

go then, leaving poet,
sad mad bad

to salve my soul,
know this!

I am eating
a tuna Swiss melt,
French Fries and ketchup,
Danish made with Danish cheese,
drinking my fatte latte.

This my stress,
so well expressed,
but baby, be advised,

I am doing it,
in our bed!

all day tv watching,
crushed neath an inconsolable need
to do all those spiritual things
of which you disapprove!

you went down the long hallway
at 6am,
you thot you heard me say,

Leila, you got me on my knees!

what was said but this:

*Save me babe,
from doing as I please!

The darkness behind our eyes
Malice within our souls
The rebellion our menace
The prison we locked ourselves in
A cage we built to trap our wild hearts
Treading the fine line between
Normalcy and psychopathy
Vengeance, violence and brutality
All that we've masked in our grace
Hiding beneath our placid demeanor
Gentle breaths tender caresses
Soft lips whispering sweet nothings
Our words carefully scripted
Depicting a picture of purity and perfection
False sincerity reaching out to others
Only to burn all that we lay our hands upon
Malingering through days
Sugar laced actions and innocent smiles
Life is but a masquerade
As we dance or days away

Night has enveloped, to give me some relief,
Now invisible are walls of separation, and thy grief.

Where blood quenches the thirst,
Disloyalty is faith last and first,
Is the religion my beloved belongs to.

I beckoned, red and black robed lady with a wand.
Let me take her by the hand.
Heard of her about sorcery.
Her powers useless, and witch now about to succumb,
From just a gaze of eyes filled with Kohl of Leila.

My nights worthless, body breathless,
Every moment, feeling restless.
Be silent and hear, hear me, my cries,
Don't forget the promise you swore,
I have lost my childhood over you.

Don't know, how these years left me alone,
Sufferings, separation, theft me alone.
I never knew how pain excrutiates.
Sometimes, I enlivened you my dear,
Love is a blessing, and not a fear.

In a melancholy cloudy day, I mourn.
Glistening eyes, weeping sky, and heart torn.
I gaze from a window in Kashmir,
For a moment, condoling the tragedy, sighing.
In sombre time, lifeless, as if dying.

Let me unroll rugs, prayers to furnish tonight
Promise to my Lord may accomplish tonight

Urdu sipped my blood since years back
Let me try my grief in English tonight

Stars walked around the sky over her mansion
Eagerly gathered to know her wish tonight

Rivulets flowing down your cheeks are havoc
Oh Lord!  Who will relieve her anguish tonight

Evening of June and approaching misfortune
Silently my hopes wait to vanish tonight

Who cares for Life, Leila and Love
Let them cause my soul to perish tonight

Mirza, in Husayn's abode, swears by Lord
In divine Kingdom, he feels devilish tonight

you said you'd rather talk about the weather
than feelings

i like to compromise
so here goes nothing:

"red skies in the morning,
sailors take warning."

little do they know the deep red
and touch of pink
is actually just the blush
in my cheeks
that you put there with
two kisses
early today

"90 percent chance of rain and sunshine."

my mother's mother
used to blame sun-showers on satan.
"he's beating his wife again,"
the old woman would croak.

i now roll my eyes
as i think back to that remark
made on the back porch
on a hot, rainy
florida summer's day.

call it ironic
to hear thunder rumble
and feel fat drops of rain
hit you in between your brow
on a day with no grey cloud in sight
call it whatever you want.

i silently rejoice with the earth's sky
for crying along with me,
all while smiling.

sometimes a boy is the sunshine
and i am so full of love
that i burst with my own
raindrops
i call 'happy tears.'


"hurricane leila"

my eyes are damp
and probably smudged
with black kohl eye-liner
but they are bright.

my eyes are calm,
the conditions surrounding
are wild.

they say the eye
of the hurricane
is the calmest point of a storm.

when it feels like
all else is going to shambles,
when gusts of wind pick up fast,
and rain is falling harder by the second,
just look into my eyes,
darling.

you are safe here.

The poison of Dylan and Eric,
infectious and somewhat unreal,
perhaps the poison I have of theirs tasted,
is not from their mouth but their heart.

I feel the weight of the wave fall upon me,
their end is the bloom of a daisy,
not smiling, but a release ripping them apart,
my womb wishes to comfort them.

And at once I am quiet, exhausted,
ready to sail and walk among clouds,
only to feel the earth beneath me,
occupied I leave and choose to be Leila.

I guess it's just us,
For all eternity


-Leila

I may not be serious to what you expect me to be
I may not cherish you as love should be
You may not feel my gentle touch, the way i'll hold you
The way i'll hug you


You may not hear the way I talk about you
But my heart shouts with joy whenever I see you
to love is not to say I love you
to love is not hold you close
Love is shown in many other ways

But my love for you will always remain in one place
You may not know how much I admire you
You may have thought that I don't care about you
But deep inside my heart I really love you

Is this the end?
I ask 'Azrael'
Where shall I depart
Where shall I restart
Where to take my heart?

What if the answer is silence
And if
Angel of Death
Steals my breath
And Says:
We Love you more
Then you adore
Your Leila

What Shall I say
On that day
When I will be alone on my way
~
Mirza Sharafat

The moon was once asked, "how do you keep evolving with so much beauty?"
He replied, "my longing for the sun makes me shimmer with light at night.
The love of the Sun makes me “Majnoun Leila”. I die each new dawn,
So my love, my Sun can rise up every morning with a renewed hope and a warm smile."

Hussein Dekmak

This isn't a poem but I just had a thought, there's a few people out there that read my stuff and I've had some pretty intense conversations with people on poetry websites. I always see these places as a sanctuary where I can express myself openly, pour out my heart and soul for people to see. Normally I filter which things I show certain people but you guys are mostly all in the same boat. We open ourselves up and try to make things, including our pain, look as beautiful and delicate as we possibly can. It's an art that's extremely close to home for most of us. I'm glad these communities have been made because when I do message poets there's no small talk or *******. It jumps straight to the point and we share even deeper parts of ourselves and our experiences because this is a place where we've already taken off the masks and shared ourselves with others. It's spectacular, there's not many other places where you can be so comfortably yourself with others, because here you just need to take a moment to look at their work and see if they're in the same boat. It's a shortcut of sorts to the person's soul.

This ended up being much longer than I'd anticipated but it's something that I always hold close to my heart. I came on here to say that I hope everyone's doing okay and trying their best to find even the smallest ray of light each day, especially if they're having a hard time. You're all super brave for expressing yourselves on here, or if you're just doing it to be creative good on you too because you don't know how many people might connect with your words. Keep doing what you're doing and be kind to yourselves as well as other people.

Just a little message for you guys,
Leila :)

Mama, I know you care
I cherish your words
I know you have your reason
I am sorry that you hurt.

Leila, you are independent
You are beautifully strong
You have made me feel welcome
I feel like I belong.

I feel I’ve known you all my life
Even though we have just met
You mean the world to me already
I love you, Svet.

Leila Navabi accused Mr Sunak
of “not representing most brown people”.

“Rishi Sunak represents a lot of things for us as a society,
not least what Prince Charles would look like in brownface.”

The jibes follow days of online attacks on ex-banker Mr Sunak,
who married into a wealthy steel dynasty.

Senior Tories leapt to his defence,
with Foreign Office Minister James Cleverly tweeting:
“The left really don’t like us BAME people being successful, do they.”

NO..they do not
come join us for we represent you
you are comrades and brothers and sisters
we need you driving the buses
working in the shops
sweeping the streets and dancing about
you've got the rhythms and the moves
sell us the drugs and swagger into jails
you are black why be anything like Lawyers and Doctors
who wants a decent respectable blackman with a Royal heritage
that's not right by any means

Join us and help CANCEL black progressives
who are educated, aspirational, respectable and law-abiding
Viva peoples power...we are the majority
and what we decide goes.....