June 2013
4 posts
caliber.
how deeply
should my words
burrow themselves
into your heart?the difference between
living and dying is
how far the bullet
decides to travel.
May 2013
7 posts
I changed for you
and lost you when
you realized you liked
the old me betterI tried to change back
but could not remember
the person that I was
so you stayed goneI called you once
and asked you to tell me
who I was when we met
but you hung upI would miss me
but I don’t know who
the person is
I should missSo I’m now
and forever
a lost and wandering
nobody
مآ أجمّل أنْ تصمتْ
فيْ ؤجهْ منْ ينتظرْ منِك الخِصَاموما أجمل أنْ تضحك
فيْ وجهْ منْ يُنتظرْ منك البكـاءْHow beautiful is it to stay silent
When someone expects you to be enraged from them.
And how beautiful it is to laugh
When someone thinks you are going to shed tears.
April 2013
22 posts
I want to grow up not because i hate my parents or want to get out of home but because i want the freedom to do tiny things like decided what furniture goes in my house and what colour the walls are and if i should go out at night rather than stay in doing work for once I want to decide what music to play in my own home while im cooking or cleaning and how loud it is. I want to experience the world without a barrier and to be able to express who i am through the little details.
Word Pool
Never knew my thoughts
could suffocate me,
Words drowning my mind
like water to my lungs.
If insanity & peace could harmonize
& somehow improvise to be one
Maybe then I could breathe
But until then I’ll gasp for air
As words boomerang through my mind
Just waiting to be spoken…
Aug.24.2011
Dead Air
Please,
Let’s not do this here;
Leave your thoughts
at the door of your lips
Clenched by teeth,
if you must,
to keep them from spewing
Or choke them with your tongue
& leave them barricaded in your throat
For I have been damaged
By words one too many times.
Who knew they could be so heavy…
- Locksandpoeticdreams.tumblr.com
Apr.9.13 12am Poem
“A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music… and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: “Sing for us soon again;” that is as much as to say, “May new sufferings torment your soul.”
—Soren Kierkegaard (via poetdreamer)
A Monsoon of Words: I met a girl once who put Mona Lisa to shame. who could shake the pace... →
alfaazkibarsaat.tumblr.com
I met a girl once
who put Mona Lisa to shame.
who could shake the pace maker
in my rib shaker,
just by saying my name.
I met a girl who’s eyes
were blue like a bruise
i would fall so hard for
just to feel on my skin
sometime,
a girl who’s voice fell
like stars being
pulled out of the skies
by poet’s pens and
lonely lovers’ cries.
I met a girl who moved
in me like music,
back-stroked through my veins
and hallelujahed my bones
set the rhythm of my heart
and strummed through my soul.
she’d peel back my pride
like a pack of cigarettes
and take my breath away
she’d pull the sadness from my skin
with the touch of her lips
and the scent of her stay.
I met a girl once
who put Mona Lisa to shame
I felt like i was home
just by the way she said my name.
Does He still feel the nails
Every time I fail?
Does He hear the crowd cry
“Crucify”, again?
Am I causing Him pain?
Then I know I’ve got to change
I just can’t bear the thought
Of hurting Him.
“I didn’t know words could be so heavy.”
—Markus Zusak (via hellanne)
The Ghost...
Every now and then,
when I am silent
and sitting still,
I feel your touch…
like the faintest
of spider webs
brushing across
my skin, unwanted.
You haunt me in
these tiny slow
moments, and I
find the wounds
are still open, and
ache too much.
How do I get
rid of your ghost?
How do I bury
you like you
buried us?
March 2013
19 posts
Someone talk to me. I'm restless.
“Directly, or indirectly, everything we write is for someone.”
—Unknown (via aeneids)
mind... Friday night 4 line sexetry series
I want to slam
your mind against
a hard, cold wall
and fuck it utterly.
A Bad Habit
I tend to
Fall in Love
With
People’s
Pain.I soak it in.
It becomes
A part
Of
Me.Bruises.
Gashes.
Scars.
Wounds.
On their Souls.I always
Wish
I could
Heal everyone
With
My Love.Show them that
Someone cares.
Show them that
They matter.
Show them that
They are beautiful.One by one.
Person by person.
Help them
Rediscover
Themselves.Patience…
Ear by ear,
Mind by mind,
Soul by soul.They all will understand.
One day.
you know you’re lonely
when the only thing moving
in your life is a cursor
constantly towards a button
that will never refresh more
than the same old page,
and you know you’re sad
when an email that is a spam
is what gets you to tilt your head,
lift the corners of your lips,
and feel less alone,
if only for a moment.
“There are 7 billion people on this planet who I have not met,
and 195 countries I have not visited.
Yet I am stuck in this insignificant town,
Being pressured into making decisions about my future,
When I barely even know who I am” —Unknown (via solunars)
and 195 countries I have not visited.
Yet I am stuck in this insignificant town,
Being pressured into making decisions about my future,
When I barely even know who I am” —Unknown (via solunars)
I would love to have a heart to heart with one of my tumblr followers right now… No judgments, just truth,peace and wisdom.
“Writers end up writing about their obsessions. Things that haunt them; things they can’t forget; stories they carry in their bodies waiting to be released.”
—Natalie Goldberg (via sadgee)
Some people don’t see love, they see shards of glass on the floor. And they refuse to cut themselves.
I FUCKING FIGURED IT OUT
THE ‘THE’ IS SIDEWAYS, RIGHT?
BECAUSE YOU READ THE THE WITH ALL THREE OF THE PHRASES
‘IMAGINE THE SKY’
‘HOW IS THE SKY’
‘TOUCH THE SKY’
IT’S STILL FUCKING STUPID BUT I FIGURED IT THE FUCK OUT
I really read this too quickly & thought it said, “Imagine how to touch the sky”
