Antares

I'm a sunflower, in a way 🌻

[antares07]

✨Till our next eclipse ✨

Till our next eclipse, my love,

when the moon dares kiss the sun again,

I will keep your name

folded softly between my breaths

like a prayer the night refuses to forget.

The stars may wander,

oceans may unlearn the shore,

and seasons may scatter their petals to the wind,

yet some things are written

deeper than time

you in me,

and me in the quiet ache of missing you.

So if distance becomes our sky,

look upward when the heavens darken.

That rare celestial silence

will be my soul reaching for yours,

shadow meeting light

the way we always do.

Till our next eclipse,

till the universe conspires to bring us close again,

carry my love

like moonlight hidden beneath your skin

always there,

even when it’s unseen.

[antares07]

اليوم كانت لدي جلسة أخرى مع الطبيب النفسي ..

الذي ساعدني بأن أفترض أنك وهمًا ،

آخر اللقاء ودعني عند الباب

وسألني :

« ماذا ستفعلين الآن ؟ »

قلت :

« لا أعرف دكتور، لكن عليّ أن أذهب إليه الآن! لأخبرهُ أنهُ وهم !

أنا معتادة أن أخبرهُ كل شئ ! »

[antares07]

تَعلّقُت بشمسٍ،

لم تُخلق لِتُشرِقَ لِي!

[antares07]

I wanna kiss you

Hold you

Cuddle you

Let my hands trace every inch of you slowly

Pull you closer till there’s no space left between us

Feel your breath against my skin

Get lost in the warmth of you

In the way you melt into me

In the silence that says everything

And stay there…

Like nothing else in the world matters but us

[antares07]

غِيَابُكَ يَزيدُنِي حُبًّا،

و تِلكَ مُشكِلتِي..

[antares07]

أتَظُنُّ أنّ البُعدَ أنساني إيّاكَ؟

حاشى الفؤادَ، وكيفَ القلبُ ينساكَ؟

أمشي، وفي خطوتي شوقٌ يُلاحقني

كأنَّ ظِلّي على الطرقاتِ ذكراكَ

إن غبتَ عن ناظري، فالعينُ تُخبرني

أنَّ المدى كلَّهُ مرآةُ مرآكَ

ما زلتُ أحملُ في الأعماقِ أغنيةً

مكسورةَ اللحنِ… لكنْ أنتَ هُنَاك

فإن رجعتَ، فقلبي الدارُ تعرفهُ

وإن تأخرتَ… فالشوقُ يَرعَاك

[antares07]

عندما نخاف ونحن في أسرّتنا،

تتراجع الجدران خطوة إلى الخلف،

ويبرد السقف الذي كان يحرس أحلامنا.

البيت الذي كان وعدًا بالطمأنينة

يصبح مجرد مساحة صامتة،

لا يطرد القلق

ولا يطفئ ارتجاف القلب.

فالأمان ليس في الأبواب المغلقة،

بل في السكينة التي إن غابت،

سقط آخر امتياز للبيوت.

[antares07]

I'm a wilting rose. A whisper on the wind.

Once dear, now discarded; once felt, now forgotten.

[antares07]

When the world has forgotten you,

I will remember everything we've experienced together and tell you about it.

When no one listens to you anymore,

I will come to you and listen, until there's nothing left for you to say.

When your tears fall lonely and silent to the ground,

I will catch your tears and color them, filling them with an enchanting melody.

When you feel trapped,

I will take your hand and walk with you into untouched nature so that you can feel infinitely free.

When darkness envelops you,

I will wrap a colorful blanket around your shoulders that will make you look like a rainbow.

When you're about to give up,

I will lift you up, fill you with courage, and support you until you can move on on your own again.

[antares07]

أجيدُ حياكة معاطِفَ الطُّمأنينة،

لأنّي أعرف جيّدا،

صقيع القلب.

[antares07]

Slipping

I love what I cannot reach.

Not because it is far,

but because it keeps moving

just as my fingers begin to learn its shape.

It slips from my hands

like wet glass,

like a name I almost say,

like slippers sliding across a polished floor

always ahead of me,

always pretending it was never mine.

I watch it pass through my life

the way light passes through curtains:

close enough to warm me,

never close enough to hold.

Sometimes it looks back at me

from across a moment,

from across a year,

from across the thin space

between what is and what could have been.

I run, not with my feet,

but with my heart.

And my heart is clumsy

it trips over hope,

it reaches too soon,

it believes too hard.

Still, I love it.

This beautiful, disappearing thing.

This almost.

This maybe.

This soft ghost of a future

that keeps slipping forward

every time I whisper its name.

And maybe that is what loving is:

not holding,

not keeping,

but standing there with open hands

while something holy

keeps walking away.

[antares07]

To have you as the father of my children,

to await your return with hearts alight,

to race, our son and I, into your arms,

to rise each morning to the warmth of your voice,

is the life I dream,

soft and full of love.

[antares07]

And if you go,

I wanna go with you

And if you die,

I wanna die with you...

[antares07]

I'm not going to be able to love again.

You're the full stop of my heart

[antares07]

Thoughts of you still Corrupt, my mind

I learned how to sit

without reaching.

How to fold my hands around wanting

and call it patience.

Nothing between us asks for a name.

Nothing insists on daylight.

We lean back from the edge

like people who know the fall by heart,

yet still remember each other’s voices.

I stay where I am not required.

I soften my footsteps.

I make a home out of almost

and tell myself it is enough.

Time watches us without blinking.

It grows heavy.

It learns our shape.

There is a version of me

that would step closer

and break the spell.

I keep her quiet.

She is too honest.

She would finish things.

So I survive unfinished—

a sentence with no period,

a door never fully closed,

a warmth that knows your name

but never calls it.

If desire needs distance,

then let me be the distance

that loves you

without touching the ground beneath your feet.

[antares07]

I do not write with borrowed ink.

instead splitting myself

open on the page.

Each word carries weight,

scribed from the blood

of unspoken memories,

truths pressed thin enough

to pass as poetry.

Where lines appear,

burdens settle.

Scars linger

where the past refused

to stay quiet.

Fragments press into the page,

what once lived within

carved into being.

[antares07]

بِشوقٍ إلَيكَ

بشوقٍ إليكَ يفيضُ الحنينْ

كغيمٍ تثقّلَ بالياسمينْ

أُراسلُ طيفَكَ في صمتِ قلبي

فتهمسُ روحي: "أأنتَ اليقين؟"

تغيبُ عني، ولكنّ عطركَ

يُقيمُ بأوردتي كالسُكونْ

كأنّكَ نجمٌ على البُعدِ يسري

ويُشعلُ في الليلِ ألفَ سكونْ

أحنُّ إليكَ كأرضٍ عطشى

تُصلّي لقدّاسِ أولِ هطولْ

فعُد، فإنّي كتبتُ القصيدة

على وترِ الشوقِ، دونَ حلولْ