M.H.

Eyes shut tight, I try to clear my mind,
I'm lying in my bed trying to feel a little cozy,
My toes are tingling ice,
Fall asleep, I repeat to myself, fall asleep
Too many thoughts are circling in my head,
I know what I must do to return to my world of dreams.

It fills my ears and at once I am no longer part of this world,
The anticipation set in the beginning quickens my heartbeat,
I know what's coming, but its dramatic effect surprises me.
Its play count is irrelevant to its experience,
Every single time.

I have my eyes closed voluntarily now,
My body weighs nothing, my ears feel numb at its maximum volume,
The voice runs through me like blood runs through my veins,
Four minutes, I am floating,
My stomach flutters as images develop in my mind
Four minutes, my soul leaves to a world of romance.
I am alone in space.

If I have ever experienced love it is in that moment,
Sounds connect to tell a story.
I never want the tale to end, no matter how tragic,
The pain, the love, the fear, the hope.

It ends and once again I return to my world of silence,
I am at peace with my passion,
A small smile on my face as I keep thinking,

Fall asleep, fall asleep, fall asleep...

Keshvare Aziz

I miss my home.
Not the one I sit in now, but my real home.
The one I have never seen, the one that costs so many a sacrifice.
The sacrifice of altering their values in the eyes of its society,
But in their own eyes, it is worth growing up in their old neighbourhood,
Where their remnants of childhood replay as memories:
Once upon a time they sat on their father's lap as they watched the red-hatted puppet on TV,
They spent their summer days running along the street canals with cousins in a game of tag,
After school they emptied their backpacks to unwrap the sweet candies they bought at the store.

As they grew up, their rebellion placed them in the basements of their friends' homes,
The house music and rap playing in the background.
Flirting and playing love games with one another,
Knowing that this was the only place they could pretend to be somewhere else.
First love blossomed under the cherry tree that blooms white in the spring,
The potential threat of being caught thrilled them, their attraction growing stronger towards each other.

Photographs brought here from my real home,
I am barely in any of them.
"Oh you weren't born yet," they say as they turn to each other,
They begin reminiscing with dreamy smiles on their faces,
My jealousy grows as I hear of their great childhood,
Mine was only mediocre as it lacked a sense of heritage.
The sense of growing up surrounded by family,
Nosy to know what you're up to,
But also the ones who threw picnics on Fridays in the park,
Excessive food, laughter, and happiness,
For a moment, oblivious to the reality surrounding them.

I remember as a child I would scream at my mother with fresh tears on my face,
Demanding to move back to my beloved home,
But deep inside, I always felt the gratitude of avoiding the harshness I could have faced,
The feeling of being trapped in the own familiarity of friends and family,
Not being able to tell who was looking at you and who was watching you.

I am glad I did not grow up with a second personality,
The slyness that develops in order to protect myself and my family,
Here, I never hesitate to put my arm around my best friend,
Or second guess the words out of my mouth,
Here, I am safer than I would be in my real home.

Yet, I miss what I have not laid my eyes upon.
I miss what I've heard about, or seen in stories, pictures and movies.
Proud of its rich history and elegance.
Through all of its obstacles, it stands strong but at the same time remains delicate.
The hole in my heart is growing, the voidance yearning for a fill.
I didn't know I could feel homesick for a place I know nothing about.
My beautiful home that I have never seen,
My beautiful home that has never seen me.

I miss my home.

Y.K.W.Y.A.

There is no doubt in my mind that you talk about me to your "friends",
I put it in quotations because I am never certain who your friends are,
You are always changing them, attaching yourself and spilling your secrets,
Who knows if you're spilling mine too.

Every inch of my body reassures me that I did the right thing,
Leaving your mind games and excessive internal dilemmas,
I live a peaceful life now; free of worry.
You think I left you because of him,
But he was solely an excuse.

I left your manipulative, sly, and dishonest ways,
You pretended to be harmless and gentle,
But only a mind reader would be able to decipher what your real motives were,
You entered my heart in the disguise of a friend,
But I should have looked down to see your poorly hidden claws.

You have the nerve to be nice to me and pretend like nothing is wrong,
You should know me well enough to know that maybe a year ago I would have fallen for it,
But my innocence no longer carries its naivety,
I am stronger now and though I have lost more along the way,
I am prepared to stand alone than stand as part of your plastic collection.

I am not afraid of what you tell your new friends,
I love myself too much to let that bother me,
Unlike you, I do not allow negativity to control me,
To be honest, I'm not really sure if those things really happened to you.

I am happy you have moved on and left me to be,
But you should fret the poison you surround yourself with now.
You are capable of competing with them, but you are not capable of winning against them.
I wish you luck, but I am glad I stopped myself before becoming like you.
If I had not stopped myself, you would have made sure I would become you.

Have fun trying to figure out what I'm like now,
But you will never hear it from me.
Enjoy reading this and realizing it's about you.


**Note: This post contains a lot of hate, but it was needed to be said. I don't usually attack people like this, but I felt the need to fight with my best weapon: my words. I promise that there will not be any more negativity on my blog for a long time! :-)

H.

It was only for one night,
But I still remember his hands intertwined with mine.
He pulled me towards him while he reached for the light.

Earlier, I was loud and bold,
Smiling and laughing with those around me, turning on my charm and flirting around,
But when he said something to me, I turned into the shy introvert I sometimes am.
I tried to be nonchalant, my guard up,
Building the wall around me that nobody could break down,
But I didn't have a clue as to what I would be feeling later on in the night.

I giggled as he embraced me again,
With every single touch, my shyness resided a little more.
He looked at me and said, "You're beautiful",
but if he only knew the beauty that grew inside me when I looked at him.
The butterflies danced inside me, as if they fluttered to be released.
I smiled at him, flattered, and kissed him on the cheek.

My skin felt alive, sensations all over my body tingling with excitement,
I have never felt such a spark, not even with the one before him.
We exchanged secrets and promised to always remember,
It made me feel closer to him until the next time.
I have not stopped missing him, but he has not stopped feeding his pride.

What he does not realize is that I have pride too,
And in this game I am determined to win.
We will cross paths again, I'm sure of it.
When the time comes, I will be angry, and I will challenge him.
Once again showing my nonchalance, while my insides beg him to fight.
Until that day, I will long for him.
Nobody can compare to him.
He cast a spell on me in just one night.

Until next time.

Haven

The faint smell of fresh green leaves slowly becomes my reality,
As the sound of the waterfall carries on to confirm my mortality.
The exotic birds sing soprano notes with elegance and grace,
I slowly open my eyes and observe the surrounding unearthly place.
The divinity of my location resembles that of a sort of Heaven,
Yet the awareness of my pumping heart admits the knowledge that this cannot be certain.

The serenity and carefree atmosphere is incomparable to that of a high from ecstasy,
Any sorrows and misfortune are replaced with the faith of a peaceful eternity.
This is a place where gloom and despair are not granted access,
Only laughter echoes through the canopy, with no trace of distress.
I look around to the tropical ingredients of this glorious scene,
The image is ingrained in my mind, it will never be unseen.

I suddenly disappear from the fantasy as the sunlight hits my eyes,
I slowly open them only to feel a pang of surprise.
Although I am encouraged to believe that what I witnessed was real,
Maybe the surroundings were a part of my imagination, but the blissful experience was not surreal.
The enchantment was the result of my newly found inspiration to live an animated life,
Knowing that someday what I achieve will take me back to the place free of internal strife.

Anchor Chains

**Note: I have absolutely no idea what motivated me to write this poem, but for some reason I just felt the need to begin writing it and could not stop. It is probably one of the darkest ones that I have written, but nonetheless, it was very fun to write.

How do I fill the void that is left entrenched in its darkness,
Left inside my once rich heart before this blindness?
Why is it that my prosperity is soon followed with the deepening core,
Of the intense sorrow that lacks the knowledge of what I grieve for?

Let go of me, for I can no longer resist,
As it constrains me deeper into its eternal, foreboding mist.
"I want to be free!" I scream within myself, only it never breaks sound,
The surrounding crowds only witness a smile, as I am only internally bound.

Bound by the unknown, there is no trace of curiosity in me,
To discover this calamity that threatens to leave me with cruelty.
This suffering must end, I must remember who I used to be,
The only one who holds the key to the chains is the honourable side of me.

Puzzle Pieces

Sometimes the events that occur in my life all seem to hold the common intent of crushing my dreams, passions or relationships with the people around me. Day after day, things just fail to go my way, and I am motionlessly dumbstruck at how and when things suddenly began to go downhill. It's as though everything I once looked forward to becomes something I try to forget, because it is no longer obtainable. But other times, every single thing in my life seems to fit together and go as planned. It is funny how in those moments, I tend to forget to appreciate how everything in my life is going so smoothly, only because I don't recall the nasty feeling of losing control during the difficult times. But what I have recently realized -- you could even call it a 'mild epiphany' -- is that events in my life only begin to go as planned after everything has gone wrong. Confused yet? Before people start to think this blog represents the mind of a neurotic, let me provide an example:

If you're an adult and are either in school or have a job, you have probably realized by now that life is definitely a puzzle, and its pieces are scattered in this world and -- most likely -- the next fifteen dimensions. I'm not trying to sound like Forrest Gump (because let's face it, he sounds much cooler when he talks about life), but life really is like a puzzle! Think about it; when things are going well in your life, the puzzle pieces tend to fit together and make a pretty picture (for fun, let's say it's a picture of Tom Hardy). But when everything seems to fall apart, it's as though those puzzle pieces are breaking apart and therefore; the puzzle fails to make any sense (as though Tom Hardy's lips are where his belly button should be). Here is the interesting part: the puzzle only falls apart to make a new puzzle from its altered pieces; a puzzle that becomes more beautiful than the previous one (let's keep it clean this time with a picture of Paris). 

You probably still think I'm a neurotic because this probably only makes sense to me, but what I'm really trying to say is that life is a puzzle, and the events and relationships in our lives are the puzzle pieces. Their purpose is to break apart from the puzzle, reform into new shapes and sizes, then pull themselves back into the puzzle and somehow make room for themselves. That is the cycle of one's life. Sometimes pieces from the puzzle will fall apart and break, but they do so only to come back and put together a more beautiful and elegant picture that represents your new life. It's like Darwin's theory of the "survival of the fittest"; the pieces change because you change, your dreams change, your friends change. Though at the time when everything is falling apart you may lose faith, just remember that things are only changing in order to accommodate your improved life.

It's over

The illuminated path I started on begins to dim,
The shadow that follows behind alters the beautiful scenery to grim,
Because that shadow threatens my happiness; that shadow resembles him.


The ease now turns to anger,
The hole in my heart gets bigger,
Because that anger threatens my peace; that anger becomes my captor.


An entity visits my path and lights itself,
Relieving my disturbed conscious like heavy books taken off a shelf,
Because that entity manifests itself as my saviour; that entity is my present self.

Freedom.

The wing of a bird is a simple yet complex affair,
Those trusted know it should be preserved and handled with care,
It stretches far and high to prove its might,
But who would have known a bullet would break its flight?

The leader's hands on the hips of the dancer guides her moves,
Nobody but her realizes that he is leading her in a way she disproves,
The elegant dancer should be following with a smile,
But who would have known his hands force her direction into a perilous style?

The graceful arms of the dancer resemble the fragile wing of the bird,
Both controlled and insecure, both vulnerable and fractured.
The will to escape transforms the broken wing into one that is majestic,
And the competence of the dazed dancer leaves her no longer heartsick.
Their gallantry allows them to become independent and privileged,
As their new-found liberty will grant them protection and always be kept salvaged.

Flicker

Birds sing as the smell of after-rain engrosses my room,
The occasional sounds of distant cars fill me with gloom.
Yet, when I think of you, my world morphs into silence,
My reality confuses itself with a feeling of voidance.

Together, we create envy for those who have not yet been touched by love,
Others say we are something we need to be proud of.
As I sit and ponder about the illuminating light that makes itself known in my dark room,
I cannot help but notice its constant flicker that reinforces its doom.

Why do I remain still and feed it my attention,
As though I am to blame for its arrogant creation?
For the first time, I move towards the switch of the light,
A single tear falls down my cheek as I deliver its death into the night.

Rose Petals to Brown Leaves

The crimson leaves of last season have crumbled and follow the gust,
Shriveled from time and identical to remnants of dust.
In the wind their residue travels to places we will never know,
But their purpose is to secure room for new flowers to blossom and grow.

I stand as an obstacle for the leaves to reach their destination,
Because I stand where their buds first bloom in their creation.
We must let go of our fears and allow the floret to thrive,
If we lose faith, it will simply remain a dull chive.

Trying to fix something before it is broken may appear to be original and clever,
But like an over-watered flower, it will only descend in its damage forever.
I step away as the obstacle and instead give the seed my blessing,
There is not a single thing to do but to allow its valuable journey through its destined path, freeing me from obsessing.

Gratuitous Therapy

There's an emptiness inside of me. Like a gaping hole that grows in accordance to the growth of my emotional maturity. Until now, I never had the guts to even admit any negative feelings I have. I've grown up to hide my feelings, to smother them with all the happiness I could muster in front of my friends. But this entry is not about me. It's about the temporary happiness people can feel, and how easily it goes away with the trigger of one idea. No, I am not talking about depression or psychological issues; I am talking about human emotions. What causes us to love or to hate? I can tell you from much experience that hating someone is the easiest emotion you can feel, but the most difficult to forget. Myself, for example, would rather despise everything about someone before coming to terms with the pain they have put me through. I hope that hating a person so much will keep me busy enough to forget why I hate them. Yeah, I'm a pussy. But my pride and habit has taught me to wrap plastic wrap around the real person I am, and instead show off my new shiny self. But whatever this is supposed to achieve, it's not working. Forget the traditional values, humans need to interact with each other and communicate their loneliness or despair. It's easier said than done, I know. But times are changing and people are becoming much more open about themselves. We must trust enough in ourselves to be able to trust in others, and when we show our true selves we are not certain of the outcome, but we need to have faith that in the end it is worth having shown someone who we really are. To love ourselves means that we accept the happiness and the pain we have faced, and only through that acceptance can we move forward and share our experiences and lessons learned with our future loved ones. This gratifying sense of self is what I call gratuitous therapy.