gravity

I leave my life to You, take it for Your's is the only promise has never let me down  -

What do you do when your hands fall to your sides and it feels like they're useless? That they aren't going to listen to you and your romping mind anymore. When your body refuses to move, when it needs to be coaxed and pleaded to, to just get you out of bed.

I've been living in sweet denial. In blissful ignorance. 'Gravity, stay the hell away from me'.

You know what I see infront of me? I see boxes. I see an empty letter pad and a bunch of envelopes. I see memories all across the wall, in the form of pictures, words, that damn corner that never could stay clean. I sit in the bed you tried to love me in. I see the lamp that I never switch off, my fear of seeing faces in the dark. I see through my cupboard doors. I see past all the clothes, I see my uncle's old yellow construction helmet. I wonder why we kept that all these years...I remember trying to put it on as a kid, never fit my head.

In the race to be different, to be unique, I forgot the primal thing about being human. We all share the same emotions at some point in our lives. I try everyday to be special, to not make the same mistakes as everyone else. I try to be the girl that everyone can trust and no one can take for granted. But there's this funny thing called irony, and it leaves you disgusted with yourself. I fail to get the words out of my mouth. But I know what I want to say.

I understand now. I see you. I see the big picture. I have to give back those old school books, I have to pack away those clothes, take the pictures, the tickets, the birthday cards, the timetables, the junk off my wall. I have leave this sanctuary bare, the way I entered it. I have to learn how to say goodbye again. Live by myself again.

Starting life by myself, accepting the fact that I won't always be able to see everyone I want to...I won't always be able to say everything. I realised not everything is meant to be said at once, some words carry more weight than others and some words need to be carried longer than others. You can't trust everyone all at the same time, as much as you'd like to.

I'm going to miss my life here so much. I'm going to miss all the people I got used to. I'm praying I can live as fierce as I want to. I hope I find what I what I'm looking for, I hope I can make wherever I'm going to a home. I want to make it big. I hope I always remember those that brought me to this part of my journey. Thank you God, for giving me life, and letting me live so far. Thank You especially for all those that love me, when times get hard, they never stop believing. I pray others will know the happiness I feel when I look back at my life in Sharjah. Nothing's ever going to change that. I have grown, and I will keep growing. 

unnamed

It's so easy to walk away. 

To end it all with that extra decibel. But to be silent
while the world watches,

while the stopwatches, and the timers, and alarms

and everything else that could possibly
hold you accountable
for something you
haven't
done
goes off...

that's when the gravity of the earth no longer holds you to ground.
That's when no one else needs to understand.
That is the bliss, of you
and only you, knowing something
like an unimportant secret,

what you
and only you,
can hold inside that clenched fist of yours.

There's so much I had to say to you. But I've always had so much to say. Now, just to be different, I let the foreign silence bridge the insatiable gap between our souls.

There has to be feeling when there are no words left.
There has to be understanding when all we have time for is one look.
There has to be forgiveness when we leave ourselves behind,
so we can find others.   

The words are at the tips of my fingers.
My strength seems to fade at my lips.
There's a struggle in my voice, an audible rasp, before
I give in.

The restraint seems to find me in time. I won't shout out to you. I'll just let you pass.
I won't disturb you.
My fingers still stretch out, and the light dances on them.
I pull them away, bring them close to my heart. Tight, balled-up fists. These hot,
                                                                                                                            angry                             hands are learning Patience.

Dawn is always missed by those that watch the stars -

29 November 2011 00:35