a puppet

woke up this morning under a spell
head pounding, so many rooms in my mind, noises of different pitches, i still hear you from last night. anger filled silence. “one deep breath”, i tell myself.

“who’s your master?” i remind this self.

“a puppet.”

am i a me? or am i a puppet? held captive in my own body, keep a smile they said.

living a life between brackets. confined; suffocated.

wake up
get ready
for yet another
audit

a puppet; a show
get a ticket
attend my play
under a budget
handful of hope
another of despair
a splash of humor
for the audience
make them happy
watch them clap
curtain down
shut down
wait a minute
black screen count to three
another day
another play
repeat

opposite of home

stuck with those
who’re stuck
with a version of me
that doesn’t exist anymore

and being with them
brings up emotions
i cannot feel no more

heavy ink
guilty papers
alien words
unfamiliar stories

a foreigner
with whom i call home

the regrettable

the regrettable part is
i never got to be your friend

i never met the real you
the you everyone else saw

the you everyone else loved

and now i don’t miss the you i knew;
i miss the version i never had the chance to

go kindly

“don’t mind me”

scrubbing off

judgemental views

loathsome words

sinking into

a bubble bath

to my soul

to cleanse

to find thee

to remind me

nightly

go kindly

Pray

to you Allah,

I pray everyday,

show me the way

for all i need is to wake up one day,

and finally be okay.

war

the past year was all about going into war with my worst enemy; myself.

left every fight celebrating my loss, losing parts of me i needed to shed.

you start growing when you’re the only one noticing your battles;

celebrating every little win, leaving the battlefields brand new;

couldn’t even notice all the versions of you.

i ran out of ink; trying to journal every tiny thought, so many fleeting emotions couldn’t be fully felt.

black ink, endless paper, rewriting who i want to be, reinventing me.

happiness of a tree

i walk in silence beside your green leaves

i hear you sing to your branches

you choose to live every day

take care of your yield

you drink the water beneath

you look death in the eye

rooted too deep

she breathes into the sky

inhaling the smiles of the gatherers

exhaling gifts to the universe

happy to give away

her children

a selfless deed

and i ask myself

does she ever wallow or grieve

does she want to stay alive

does she fights the urge to leave

from where i stand

this tree

seems happier than me

old mallet

carrying the world
inside my walls

a desire to break free
yet the mallet’s too old
once it’s carried
it crumbles and falls

a need to be broken
once more
perhaps more pieces
need to form

for me to become one
once and for all

too calm

too calm
the scary kind of calm

tornado warning kind of calm
silent screams kind of calm

so many at once
too much to exist
in one

am i the rain
am i the dancer under the rain
am i the one explaining
how did it rain

am i the melody
or am i the dance

feeling a lot
but none at all

stuck in a stranger that i call home

unsure

have you ever been certain
took a step towards
knowing exactly where to head

have you ever been sure
whom to walk with
or who to ask for help

have you ever known
where to go
when you feel alone

have you ever felt heard
were you ever seen before

i’ve always been
uncertain
unsure
never knew
where to head
feeling alone
on an empty road
ten steps back
one towards