1.
I made my way through thin, cigarette trees
as I searched for, and simultaneously, lost myself.
The foliage coated the ground in different shades of gold,
soft earth's natural armour against my violent feet.

2.
I whispered like smoke, from some conscious place,
"where are you,

                       where are you?"

3.
I found the moon in wavering waters,
resembling a pale dinner plate.
The stars, its companions,
the table on which it was set.

4.
I looked for recognition in the eyes of my reflection,
the face was that of another woman.
One that did not flinch like an exposed nerve;
One that knew she was more like a grains of sand at her feet,
than the gravity around her.

I folded my tired self into her stillness,
knowing that I controlled nothing, and
finally rested.

what have you done to me.
i let you undress me with your eyes,
slowly and reassuringly.
and then aggressively with your hands,
undoing the buttons on my shirt
and unzipping my jeans
nearly ripping the fabric right from under me.

pulling me across the bed
breathing heavily into my ear,
i'm remembering why
i ever called you mine in the first place.
we decorated these walls with our fingerprints
and they remain as memories of every time we've touched.

now why you?
is it your scent, is it your skin?
the way the marks you leave on my stomach
feel like you every time i touch them?
its you that i want, its you that keeps me here
when i should be with whom i claim to love.

when you were mine,
it was a perfect dream,
we ran through the war with not a scratch
not a dent in our skin.
we got out of the mess,
accompanying each other through the storm.

I should have let you sit in the driveway,
I should have never let you walk through the front door.
Why couldn't you have left me alone in this room
without your taunting glares
begging for the affection i crave so much.

I swore i wouldn't do this.
I swore i wouldn't kiss your neck again,
i swore i wouldn't make you want me.

but I gave in.
so here you are
once again.
you're lying on my bed,
and i'm on top of you.

i feel a pain unbeknownst to most
not pity, yet not understanding
i feel ashamed of the fact that
they take His name before
slaughtering the innocent, the
crying.
i feel grief for those who have lost
i feel sorrow for those not found
i feel anger at these holy men
who take religion into their own
hands.

city of love painted crimson but not
for the passion and hope but
for the blood staining the streets
in unworthy unbelonging abode.
and i'm sorry. there is a place inside
me that aches and screams and yearns
and apologises.
those who committed these acts of
****** are not muslims as they so
proudly call themselves, there is only
one word for this type of man and it is
murderer.

If I've learnt anything from this year
Its that you need to plan ahead
Set yourself goals and stick to them

It may be hard
It may be boring
But in the end itll be rewarding