I’m still weak.

Wait.

Don’t go.

I’m sorry. 

I’ll be stronger. 

Just Don’t Go. 

Please.

I beg of you. 

Demonotherapy (1)

And the only remedy I need 

For my tachypnoea, 

Tachycardia,

Stress,

Doubts,

And worries,

Is the heavy sounds of your breaths while you sleep. 

Hug me.

Hug me. Until my legs give up beneath me. And I fall dragging you with me. 

Hug me. Until my breaths unite with yours. And the only way for me to receive oxygen is when You breathe. 

Hug me. Until my skin feels like an extension of yours. And detaching from me becomes an impossible option. 

Hug me Demon. Until your sins become mine and whatever goodness that is left of me is yours to own. And all you crave to do is purify me unconditionally. 

Six word story: Dictionary.

Reality and Time have been redefined. 

When you remember a car scene. Remember Me.

If I repetitively talk about that 

Time you clutched my thigh 

On our first car date and how 

It fucking scared me and you 

Can clearly see it in my wide-eyes 

Expression, 

Then let me recall it as many 

Times as I want, because that

Time was when I realised a part of 

Me fucking loved it. 

A part of me wanted you to try

It again, but the me who was 

Surprised was too powerful. 

So, yes, let me replay that scene, 

Because whenever I do, it’s an 

Appreciation to the awakening 

Of that version, 

The version who wanted more of 

You, more of your touch, more

Of everything you can give, and 

Give back everything in return. 

Yet another translation of Pain (2).

And there’s another type of pain,

That can increase 

Your sensory receptors 

– a soft feathery stroke can feel like a knife

piercing through all three layers of your skin. 

Yet another translation of Pain.

And there’s a kind of pain

That

Can strip you from your five concrete senses, 

Six, if you count logic as an abstract sense.

13,14,15th – Hijri

You know what I love?

I love when my wall is well differentiated,

For only three nights every month. 

You can clearly see the sharp edges.

A full, mature, and complete pearl;

The only time where I’m not consumed, 

By the power of the world’s darkness, 

Or is it the power of my doubts and insecurities?

A wall that protects me from my uncertainties?

A wall that tests your capability to enter solely, 

Without leaking that darkness within, 

And ensure my safety. 

A wall that shuts out anything and anyone, 

Buy you. 

A wall and body that illuminates clearly, 

Inviting you in. 

That strong glare you see

Represents my stretched arms.

And those flawed dents

Are my empty embrace, 

Waiting for you to take the hint to 

Come here. 

Come here. 

So come here, baby, 

And let me watch over you up close. 

Share your analysis.

Talk me through the expressions you have witnessed throughout the days or nights we met, 

Analyse me the way I do to the world. 

Tell me about the finest twitches or lines that appear on my face or even body. 

Describe the way my body shakes when I’m being consumed with doubt 

And the voices in my head start to colonise me again.

Tell me what roamed in your head when you saw me panic for the first time. 

Disclose all the poems that are invisibly tattoed on my body,

Reveal the stories you can read from my eyes, my lips and the rest of the flesh that make up this face.

“Treat you better”

The sweet pain that lingers, 

After what we barely did the other night,

When time paused,

Stretched,

Coiled back, 

And danced around us like playful spirits,

Is an unwavering reminder

That my body understands what it means 

To be consumed by yours.