First, you make mistakes,
then you let them make you.
You are not your mistakes;
pay no mind, if you begin to hear “boo”.
“Experience is the best teacher”;
that, in fact, is quite true.
Fall, then raise yourself back up,
there is nothing you can’t do.
I’M MISS TAKE, THE OLDEST TEACHER;
I TEACH HIM, AND I TEACH HER.
YOU BECOME YOUR BEST AS A CREATURE
WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT YOUR
SCAR IS YOUR MOST-ATTRACTIVE FEATURE.
You’re very qualified,
but you’re not.
“Accepted resumes should be printed on White A4s”,
but you were born with Black ones.
Your experiences and skills are printed in White,
just like everyone else’s,
but that’s never enough.
They’ll get back to you,
but don’t bother to wait for the barks;
their backs are already turned at you,
they don’t really hire the “darks”.
Loves you when you’re weak,
hates it when you’re strong.
Might shout “go” for you the loudest,
but when you move an inch, you’re wrong.
You need to end that friendship.
There you are, sitting in the garden,
desperately waiting for the seed’s growth.
You water it for as long as you can,
then you say to yourself- “if I use my tears,
it might be kind enough to grow faster.”
You’re tired of waiting;
you’re tired of dreaming.
So, you slap yourself really hard,
punch yourself with all your strength,
and attach pins to your right arm,
one pin for every second
that you have had to wait,
but the seed won’t sprout, still.
Then, you realize!
You realize that what you’ve been waiting for,
what you’ve planted, is no seed at all-
it’s your heart, it’s your self, and
you can’t grow love on an infertile ground,
even if you ask and wait and beg for it,
with all of your heart.
I see the moon,
the moon sees me.
She also sees him, and him,
and Him, whom she notices first,
because he glows as well,
since he’s all clothed in lies.
It’s a crying shame,
she doesn’t really see me.
Painting: Lonely by Maryam Mughal
Crying a lot is bad,
not being able to cry at all is worse;
too much water won’t kill a fish,
the absolute lack of it will.
I am a sad fish,
constantly bullied the bigger fish-
De and Pres and Sion-
because my life depends on it.
I am uncomfortable in this ocean,
unhappy in my space,
because it feels like all the water
has been forced down my throat;
it’s really hard to swim.
The water isn’t in my belly,
it’s in my heart,
mixed with my blood,
it has become tears.
All the other fish are aware
and they’re moving as far
away from me as possible
because I have no breath,
because I smell like death,
except Sion and Pres and De.
Everything’ll be fine as soon as I cry,
but as much as I try,
I’m so numb,
I’m so tired,
I’m so… dying.
I so desperately wanted to be a star,
and now that you have made me one,
how do I tell you that I hate it when
I struggle for your attention?
I want to be the star,
the only star, on this sky,
and if that wish is impossible to grant,
make me the guiding star.
I want to have you to myself, Moon.
I really hate the way you ‘her’;
I want you to turn things ‘her-round’.
I’m sick and tired
of being sick and tired,
so tired of being sick,
so sick of being tired.
I’m so tired of being love-sick,
and just as intensely,
so sick of the way you make me tired.
You make me uncomfortable when
you place a third on our love seat,
when you make me struggle for your attention
like the weakest star among the
lot who love and want to be with the moon,
when I lie with you and there’s no heat.
I am sick and tired of you, of this us, of the way you ride me like a horse.
I liked your touch so much,
I became fragile,
but you were too young to handle fragile;
you broke me.
Complain or Come Plain?
Complaining that your partner does not see you for who you are when you don’t know who you are.
Complaining that your partner doesn’t see you for who you are when someone else’s partner doesn’t see them at all because they can’t, they’re blind…
Oops! This relationship is too comfortable. Let me just frustrate everyone a little; lemme just cook trouble, I haven’t tasted blood in a while.
Lemme just…end this beautiful relationship because something is missing- chaos- I’m so used to chaos, where is it?