Lines – Pt. 2

God said “Iqra”, read.
I read lines in the world around me,
Sought love in the tangible blindly,
False validation from one, who, under the guise of sarcasm would chide me,
While loved ones remained saddened by my secrecy.
New faces, possible soulmates, overlooked because of a fallacy,
Passivity placating problems permeating in reality,
Preoccupied with dreams of a loving union and happy family,
Only to regain consciousness with no sense of clarity.
Like a black hole amidst stars, asymmetric feelings consumed me,
An intricate game with swift plays like football in the evenings,
Hollow words akin to missed goals you plated and fed me,
Unsatiated, I returned to your table consistently.
Seemingly delicious conversations lured me with laughter,
Rooted in superficiality up close, I realized thereafter,
Naively hoping the menu would somehow change,
Forgetting that flavors don’t change when ingredients remain the same.


Lines – Pt. 1

I write lines when my heart bleeds,

These solid pages turn translucent as I plant my seeds.

Stripping layer after layer revealing my heartbeat,

Paired with a pain that my weary mind can’t ease.

Healing does not come, because I am utterly confused,

By the juxtaposition of your words and your manifested truths.

I stand naively smiling transfixed by your aura,

While you stand there like an apparition, declaring a moratorium.

Concealing connections very similar to mine,

Kind words devoid of truth like “you are sublime”.

But what more is there to say when the end has finally come,

When trying something new is more valued than something already begun.

Searching for freedom, but still bonded by your tongue,

Struggling to unshackle these chains until they are completely undone.

So, I write lines when my heart bleeds, but this much is true,

I am a gem to be cherished, I remember, 

And one day, one day you’ll realize it too.

Partner in Paradise

My heart has a habit of illuminating certain souls that radiate like the sun and enrapture me with their glow. Stolen glances ensue while I steady the euphoria within, maintaining a stoic facade for the intellectual evaluation to begin. My mind longs to know you and cleave your thoughts asunder, but how to achieve this without looking desperate I wonder? The role of passive spectator conflicts greatly with my nature, for this world is too short to roam like an impartial spectator. If my heart feels for you I will surely make it known, just look to my eyes, this is where my affection is shown.

For I am a heart that beats,
a tongue that speaks,
a body that bleeds,
and a soul that seeks.

But these eyes also uncover truth when intentions are concealed, and sheds tears in isolation when affection is repealed. And though my tongue is not sharp with seeds of contempt, or my actions reflective of internal discontent, my gradual absence from your life and attempts to circumvent are the subtle signs of my heartache and efforts to forgot.

But life goes on and wounds heal,
scars remain and lips are sealed,
the brain supersedes the heart’s zeal,
granting our weary souls time to heal.

Finally remembering that God’s plan is greater than my dreams,
Though my wants are blinding, my needs are these,
I pray for a companion that will love and sacrifice,
And who by His grace is my partner in paradise.