Sunday, 21 June 2015

Nineteen and learning.

This pain is blinding underneath my brain like an ocean of stories untold and tears unspilt.  Cracks around the edges, I thought I was okay. Ya habeebi,  tell me , why does it hurt like the last time I touched you and your face burnt my fingertips? Why are their still maps in the burn scars that trace back to you?

You're the last person on my mind and the first person on my dua list.

Why do the scars still bleed when they're invisible to me and I think I'm okay but I'm still a mess and why does it still ache like it did the first time? Why does it feel like the same pain is ripping out of the same wounds and crushing my self assured strength ? Why is this kind of hurt so unfamiliar and unidentifiable but still so very real?

Why are we always weaker than we think we are?

Why will the realisation of the fact that we will never be okay again not come to me with resignation or acceptance?