Category Archives: Poetry

My doubts

This imperfect body of yours
is nothing more
than just a host for your soul
there is an unseen beauty
dripping from within
so take the brush of self-love
and paint it all over your skin
because you are the comfort of heaven
and the ease of Eden
in you lies a garden of solace
you may not be the pretty
you’ve always craved to be
because darling
you are the vastness of the sea
look into the windows of yourself
and not in the mirrors of doubt.

Beneath the Shadows of Eden

I doubt myself a lot. I have doubts in everything I do, and I wrote this to comfort myself. If I had the paint of self-love I would drench myself in it. But self-love isn’t something that will come to you like an impulsive thought. It’s something that has to be developed over time. Something that requires patience and time. Self-love isn’t just buying yourself expensive, materialistic things, it’s learning to keep your heart content with whatever life throws at you. I would be lying if I say I have mastered the art of self-love. I am nowhere near that stage. But I’m trying and sometimes trying is all that matters.

Poetry book: Curing My Venom

Crying on bathroom floors

All that pain you’ve kept
beneath those hidden faces
and all those tears you’ve cried
on bathroom floors and pillow cases
all those aches, wounds and insecurities
you’ve been carrying for a while
give them all to me
so I could see you smile.

I know you’re aching
and you won’t ever break
but the world is so cruel, my love
how long will you take?
Release yourself
from all this pain you’ve been through
life will always go on
maybe you should learn to live a little too.

Live, my child

Do you ever sit on a bathroom floor and cry your heart out because it seems as if your world is crashing down and there is nothing you can do. You feel so empty that you don’t understand the point of anything. You press your knees against your chest and cover them with your arms trying to make yourself as small as possible. I’m trying not to be negative, but I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve done that.

I’ve cried because of anger, anguish, pain, and because those around me wouldn’t understand or maybe I was bad at explaining. Or maybe it was both.

But no matter what sometimes I feel like my bathroom tiles and my pillow cases have soaked more tears than any shoulders could have.

I wrote that poem because I was tired of carrying weight and for a tiny split second, I wanted someone to say, “Hey I’ve got you. It’s okay.” But I guess… maybe everyone else is busy crying on bathroom floors too. I know how it’s like to live in a constant state of anxiety, a constant state of panic and even if it is for a split second I would gladly take away someone’s pain from them. But remember crying does not mean you’re weak or you’re a failure. It just means you’re alive. Think of it like this: when a baby is born the first thing the doctors do is make sure the baby cries, because that’s an indication that the baby is alive and is normal.

Poetry book: Curing My Venom

Do you still want me?

I despise myself
what about you
I’m very hard to love
maybe you should leave me too.

I am not special
so please don’t praise me like that
or else I’ll fall in love
with myself all over again.

How do you not see these scars
and this imperfect flesh?
Why would anyone love me
when I’m an ugly mess?

I am not a beauty nor a queen
but a broken, ugly creature.
It’s okay if you don’t want me
I wouldn’t want myself either.

Do you still want me?

I wrote this when I was going through a tough time in life. It was one of those moments where I didn’t understand why anyone would want to be around me because I sure as hell knew that if I had a choice I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me. You know that odd feeling where you feel like you aren’t the owner of your kingdom, where your body and mind aren’t tuned. That’s what I felt. At one point I hated myself and looking into the mirror made me question God. If He is perfect why would he create such a flaw? I feel like I’ve done so much damage to my own self that now I have to heal myself piece by piece and that’s hard. Very hard…

Poetry book: Curing My Venom

The battle of righteousness!

I sat on the ground
with my broken pieces
shattered around.
Blood was dripping from the sky
and Allah was watching me cry.
Tears were slowly streaming
and the winds were screaming.
The mountain I was trying to climb
to reach the heavens of desire and love
broke into pieces and I fell from above.

I hit myself so hard that I couldn’t feel my ache
was I that broken that it was impossible for me to break.
I was so alone that pain left me numb
I curled into a ball and waited for death to come
but it wasn’t death, pain, or light that found me all alone
it was an enemy who promised to bring me back home.

It was Satan who came to me wearing a vest of hope.
He sat by my side and gently held my hand,
“I’ve come to help you rise because I know no one will understand.”

The devil gave me his word and made me sit upright
the world is too selfish my love it doesn’t deserve your light.

“Come, we’re both fallen angels what do you say
hold my hand and we’ll make everyone pay.
The world does not deserve your mercy let’s tear everything apart
I will burn down the world just tell me where to start.
These so called people, they aren’t your friends
life is unfair so let’s make amends.
You took the right route, yet you lost the game
people have walked over you, so you do the same.
You were pushed down and no one came to your aid
It’s your time now, so take this blade.
Do what you want so you could go higher
burn down everything and do what you desire.
Victory won’t come to you
you’ll have to snatch it from someone else at every turn
let’s be partners and we’ll watch the world burn.
What’s a little hell compared to the hell you’re going through?
come to the dark side, let’s see what you can do.”

The words sounded so good.
Maybe I shouldn’t.
Maybe I should. “Do it,” a voice had echoed
“Don’t you dare,” another had said.
The battle I was fighting was taking place in my head.

There were bombs and explosions taking place within
and there was no one I could tell
people would say I was a sinner
and they would threaten me with hell.
How could I rise when I was drowning in myself
everyone threw judgments but no one would come and help.

Maybe he was right
if I was in darkness why should someone else be in light.
I didn’t understand.
what was the point of being righteous and just
if everyone else in the world was filled with hate and lust.
Everyone around me was living in a beautiful lie
if everyone was cheating then why shouldn’t I.
It was my turn to take
I was tired of giving
why did I have to be a saint
when everyone else was sinning.

“Because,” my Lord said.
“I made you different don’t be like the rest.
Ruining a life is easy but giving hope is hard
take the easier path and you’ll lose who you are.
I made you a leader yet you’re giving in to another voice
you were kind and just, because it was your choice.
Not because you had to prove anything to the people around
you can’t sink the world just because you’re about to drown.
The world can do whatever it wants
but don’t let it corrupt your response.
You’re brave, how can you let a fall dictate your way.
Iblees doesn’t care, he just wants to rip you apart
this crusade you’re fighting is taking place in your heart.
Being good has nothing to do with getting something in return
you, my aching soul of clay have so much to learn.
I know you’re confused and so badly torn
but this fall of yours is giving you another chance to be reborn.”

Smiling my Rab said, “I’m the one who pushed you
and this you should’ve known.
If I created you
do you really think I would leave you all alone.”

Poetry Book: Curing My Venom