a woman shouldn't be called by sweet names,
'cause she can also be bitter when neglected.
a woman shouldn't be called a princess or a queen,
'cause she can also be a knight when hurt.
a woman shouldn't be called love,
'cause she can also use her intelligence to know of you are cheating.
a woman should be called by her name,
'cause it is the most lovely thing she will hear from the man she loves.

i had forgotten your laugh.
i had forgotten your smile.
i had forgotten your eyes.
i had forgotten the way you whispered on the phone.
i had forgotten the way you hated your thigh.
i had forgotten Sam and Alex.
i had forgotten how you giggled when i cried.
i had forgotten why you giggled when i cried.
i had forgotten the nights i didn't like myself.
i had forgotten your favorite color.
i had forgotten how big your ambitions were.
i had forgotten it all.
but i will never forget the color of your hair.

When it’s midnight over there,
It’s nine here, it’s unfair.
And i wish I was there with you
To make you smile, and laugh too.

It’s frustrating indeed,
That you’re so **** far away from me.
You say you’d try to hold my hand,
While we listen to your (and now some of my) favorite bands.

By the time that you tried,
Our fingers would already be intertwined.
I know right now it’s just fantasy.
But i can talk to you so naturally.

And yeah it’ll be difficult,
And sometimes you might just want to bolt.
But if we really want this
Nothing can stop us, not even this distance.

but that moment you took hold of me
in the darkened room
cinema lights reaching ever corner
of my needy
lonely heart
it wasn’t so much a breathlessness
as it was you breathing into me
the air that i had been missing
i understand now.
there will always be part of me
that belongs to you.

You are my Inspiration.
You are my Adviser.
You are my Hero.
You are my Roots.
You are my World.
You are my Sunshine.
You are my Love.
You are my Favorite.
You are my Dream come true.

~ A'ishah

I know how it feels
To look in the mirror and get chills,
Not the good kind
The ones that consume your mind.

I know what it’s like to look at scars.
My heart and my arms are marred.
And the mirror
Brings about tears.

And it hurts
When the pain sticks to you like damp dirt.
And you can’t love the things you used to
Because this feeling is taking over you.

But that’s why it’s important not to fake a smile.
And why you need to be honest once in awhile.
I get it, when the hurt gets too much.
I escape, try to find me in a crowd and I’ll duck.

I avoid.
And it’s an active choice.
But I’ve learned it doesn’t change anything.
And I’d rather know and see someone’s demons
Than see a fake smile, even if it’s bright as the sun.

These bruises and scars on my skin
help me remember,

"Yes,


I am still alive."