I can't tell you

"Tell me"

"I can't tell you"

"Why not?"

"I'm here for you,

do you not trust me?"

"I do".

"Well then, why don't you tell me?"

Because if I tell you,

 I will sound ridiculous

I will not be able to show you 

the hurt

or get you to reach far enough 

to feel it for yourself.

Or maybe because when I share this with you

you will have a piece of me that I cannot take back

and then I will feel a little too exposed.

a little too naked.

Or maybe if I tell you,

you'll label me,

and wonder why I'm being such a downer,

or worse,

and you'll tell me

 that there are other people in this world

who go through much more.

"What a spoiled little brat."

"Who does she think she is?"

"She's got men at her feet

gets compliments left and right, 

and yet she complains."

and then maybe you will

start contemplating about your own life

and make me feel stupid 

for ever telling you in the first place.

Because if I tell you,

maybe one day

without meaning to

it will slip from your mouth

and I will be the word on their tongues

and then I will be wondering why

suddenly they whisper when I turn around

and why people around me start to fade without warning.

"She's got baggage", they'll say.

Or maybe it's because I don't want 

to help myself.

Maybe in all the melancholy,

I find myself more than I ever did when I was happy.

Something in me is so undeniably me when I shed that tear

and when I laugh,

 I can hear that other side of me snicker,

"that's not you"

Maybe that demon has found a home

and I have made a friend out of it.

But mostly I can't tell you

because it hurts too much

because if I tell you,

it will be too real

and I don't know if I want to face it,

 yet.

Or maybe I'm just scared

I'm scared you'll find me too messy

too sensitive

too insecure

too anxious

and too complicated for your liking.

So when you ask me to "tell you what's wrong"

 I end up responding with silence 

with my head lowered slightly to one side

avoiding your gaze

and my eyes might just shed the tiniest tear,

the last hopeless cry for help

I hope that in my silence you may be able to understand

that although

I have a deep desire to share everything about myself with you,

 I can't.

and

I'm so sorry

I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment

I Didn't Ask

No,

I don't want your number

neither am I impressed

by your attempts to "help" me

at every opportunity

I didn't ask for it.

So don't message me later

expecting I follow up on your generous favors

and say thank you, for being such a gentleman

If I look lost,

don't take it as an invite to jump in

and try to guide me

using your baby talk

and repetitive phrases

I'm not a child

I didn't ask for this

No, 

I don't have to be super excited when I see you

because you held a door for me once or twice

and if I just happen to be

don't think it means

you got this one in the "bag."

Did it not occur to you

that I might just
have other things in my life
 to be excited about

and not you?

No,

you are not entitled to invade my personal space

without checking with me first

that arm rest you did at the door

your pathetic try at looking like a man

respect my space, boy

And don't put me in the spotlight 

when I never asked for it, either

and don't' you dare

pay for me

we just met,

did you forget?

No,

I will not let you speak over me

interrupt me

I think you've forgotten

I've got a sharp tongue, son

I'll embarrass you

and I won't hold back

It's enough

that us women must always walk on the right 

must always keep our arms close to our bodies

and our purses closer

walk in public expecting stares from strangers

sitting on sidewalks with their legs spread out

it's enough we got used to you

asking us how old we are

and if we're single

enough with your entitlement

it's enough .

Just let us be

don't tame us.

join us

or

leave us wild

Stained

Blood.

Red.

No one is left behind.

Your hands are not pure.

All is guilty.

None can flee.

This world

changing little each minute

but great each day.

Can't keep up.

Can't keep focus

on what matters.

I cannot

save you

or anyone

or myself.

There is no shelter. 

My eyes, 

My children's eyes

will be stained.

Why must it happen?

A call?

A sign?

Who lets it happen?

But,

God forsees

God allows

So God must know.

So I submit to Him

to keep me close

to His way,

steadfast,

until my time

and our time

our reunion.

Then we will know

all will know

and all will be just.

-Random Rants

Pause

My fingers linger on the keyboard.

My heart yearns for the freedom of exposing

my every feeling

at this very moment.

But they are bound

by fear.

Judgement.

Being imperfect and

not working out the right words.

How to describe such an immense amount of emotion...

Pause.

I feel my breaths becoming heavier.

I inhale pure air and exhale hurt.

A lot of it.

Maybe I could start with what I need right now.

A hug would be nice.

I want to share someone's good energy.

I want to feel in their arms an embrace of all the parts that I am.

I don't want anyone to tell me how to fix the hurt.

I don't need a checklist or an analysis.

So please don't do that.

Pause.

This is kind of nice.

Writing what I feel at the moment;

and maybe the thought that at least one person

might stumble across it

will make it all worthwhile.

And what will they think?

Would it even matter what they think?

Pause.

I want to walk in the woods alone right now

but I find no woods.

and what's bigger is the fear planted in me saying,

"Don't walk alone in the woods. Walk with someone it's safer."

But I don't feel a single bit safe

with the idea that I cannot have the freedom of being alone

without being questioned.

I want to find a place where no one can see me

and to sit

and curl myself into a ball

and let tears fall onto my thighs.

I want a voice in my head to tell me it's okay to not be okay.

It's okay to feel all the complicated that you feel right now

and it's not your fault.

And that somehow no matter how difficult it is to imagine,

you will think back to this moment

and see all the beautiful that is in it.

I'm so tired I'm losing strength.

I can't help others right now.

I want to tell them to leave me alone.

To just leave me be.

But I cant.

Pause.

Is it bad to say I'm tired of giving?

Is it selfish to want someone to give me something ?

But then again what would I want from them anyway...

Maybe a morning cup of coffee and a blanket

with sun peeking through the window and nothing 

else to make us hurry.

Maybe a silent walk in the woods. 

No words just mutual appreciation for the beauty around us.

Maybe a song beneath the stars in an empty desert

and maybe a listening ear when I finally begin to trust.

Pause.

I'm too afraid to type,

"what if...

that never happens?"

I don't want to think about being alone

and what's worse is that I don't want think about what I might do
 to replace that feeling.

What if what I'm feeling is something everyone is supposed to go through?

What if being alone is the essence of our existence,

and that no one can really be in an understanding company,

and that it doesn't even exist,

it's just an illusion?

Maybe that's the point.

Maybe the complexity of our lived experience is not meant to be 

understood or analyzed.

Maybe its just supposed to be,

and that the only being who can possibly understand all the complexity it brings
 is the one who lets it be, 

Then,

Oh, Lord!

Grant me the trust in You to know You are always there.

Let my heart feel better with just remembering You.

Let my heart seek no other than You.

And let it feel.

Feel without being afraid to feel,

and feel what it's supposed to feel.

Fearlessly.

Let me be fearless

of anything and everything except You.

Let it be fearless to love.

Be fearless to try time and time again

and most importantly,

let it be pure

and let it be satisfied.

Ameen.

Pity Party

I will not accept the invite

to your self-proclaimed pity party.

I do not need a moment of silence

and your questionable facial display

to prove just how much

you feel sorry for me.

How do you think I feel

when you scrunch your face 

and say, 

"Oh,

I'm so sorry."

No one wants your apology

and no one wants your privileged advice.

You think I hate myself 

for what has happened to me?

I accept all my flaws

while you cannot fathom

someone living like me

without wishing I was like the rest

No one wants your "accommodation"

No one wants your "special treatment"

My acceptance is not a sad coping style.

My acceptance is my scars on display

My acceptance is my strength.

Although, in some ways 

I do wish I was like the rest

I wish I wasn't invited to your pity parties

I wish you could see past the superficial

and I'm so sorry that you're so sorry.

I'm sorry you think that God 

choosing me to be like this

is a sad punishment.

I'm sorry that people like me 

make you feel uncomfortable.

So thanks but no thanks, 

I don't need the invite to your pity party

because if you haven't noticed,

I'm too busy doing a million other things that define me.

Leave that at home

A dear sister writes:

They tell me

leave your politics at home

leave your "activism"

leave your history

leave your religion

stay "uncontroversial"

Be like us.

Don't get yourself in trouble

Think of your future

You don't know what you're up against.

I tell them

I'll leave my politics at home

if you leave your patriarchy at the door

I'll leave my "activism"

if you leave your apathy

I'll leave behind my history

if you just learn from it

I'll leave my religion

if you stop acting like a God

I'll be "uncontroversial" 

when you stop labelling your ignorance as controversy

but to be like you?

Never.

For to be like you is to live like a machine

a machine that obeys every order on command 

without question.

One that can't aspire for better or feel

out of the boundaries its expected to feel.

and one that lets other tell it

which lives are more valuable than the rest.

"I want to live, I don't want to survive"

For if I was to live

even for just one day,

a free woman

with dignity and hope,

struggle 

and

emotion

up against

the mightiest powers there may be,

rather than live a hundred years

wandering for purpose,

following orders,

keeping to borders,

satisfying any selfish desire that comes my way,

for justice,

I would.

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I Like Your Energy

You are mesmerizing.

Something in the air 

of your presence

calls attention from me

I've given no other.

I await patiently and on edge

like an eager explorer

hiking to the top of a mountain

on a chilly night

to catch the breathtaking moment

of the wake of dawn

when your face appears.

And when you smile,

the sun peeks

and he who ached for your comfort

forgets the burn of the journey.

The rest of your encounter

propagates soul and spirit.

Leaves me warm 

enough to feel as though

life in all its wonder

has come to a blissful end.

What I feel is not

only what lovers do.

But friends

and strangers

feel the same way about you too.

So, I just wanted to say that

I like your energy.

I hope that just like the blazing sun

you continue to beam 

the most mesmerizing of rays 

regardless of the life 

that

is 

below.

I wish for your beautiful existence

to keep rippling onto others 

with its love

like the one 

that is infinite

in silent water.

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• Impossible Closure

Impossible Closure

They wronged me.

I am not worth love.

My future is in ruins.

How could they?

My blood boils.
My anger is brewing.

You'll never understand,
and you might never know
the pain of sewing back
those open wounds.

How long must
I endure
and wait
for a final cure?

But a question begs itself.

Why have I given 
much of myself
in the name 
of hope?

Who will mend 
the scarred soul
of one who has
given up?

But just like a broken door
or a floppy shoe,
the fix lies with it's creator.

My heart calls for Him.

I  now hand over 
all of my sorrows,
my regrets,
and my guilt;
asking for one thing in return;

wholeness

and endless love

Oh God, please forgive me.

Forgive me for ever believing closure
was my right.
Forgive me for seeking what I do not own.

I accept all that has befallen me
and to it I say, "thank you."
For somehow finding a way
to guide my soul back to you


Alhamdoulillah.

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