Arshiya - Between Lines

[remanence-of-love]

[mgreywoodpoems]

When they ask me, every day

At the same place, the same time

“How are you?” All I can say

Is “I’m fine”

And I am, I’m fine inside, at least I think

But today, I’ll have another drink

Not too much, not too strong

Just enough to numb the day

To make the doubt, the fear, the pain

Fade away

Because I’m okay, I say

I’m fine

Do you remember Nick? My cousin, yeah

I asked him so many times

And even in the day he died

He said to me “yeah man, I’m fine”

But he’s no longer here, he’s gone away

Maybe he kept all his fine inside

Deep down where it could hide

And so when you ask

All I can say

Is that “I’m fine” today

[izzyapricot]

teenage girl canon events

curtain bangs

crying in bathroom stall

7th grade

listening to only one music album straight

problematic crush

[arshiya-betweenlines]

The moment you realize you're fucked, you don't cry. You just smile in that sadness hidden beneath the resignation

[arshiya-betweenlines]

"Respect your pillow, because it was there to catch your tears when nobody else did."

[arshiya-betweenlines]

The Void:

It’s all a blur. Has time ceased or have I simply stopped existing in it? It’s quiet. It’s deafening. The void that surrounds me has me questioning if any of this is real. I can hear them, chattering at a distance, muffled by something I cannot quite recognize. Still, I’ll admit, I have grown quite comfortable with it. It makes a loyal companion.

What are they laughing about? Well, I suppose that doesn’t concern me. What time is it? I don’t know. But the absence of sunlight is enough to tell me that another day has slipped, passed in a blur.

And now…                       I….

                             fade… too…

*****

Observation is far more convenient than speaking. Speaking demands consideration, observation does not.

That’s where my heart and I disagree.

Although a small part of me dares to argue that sorting feelings and acknowledging them makes you stronger, I believe it to be an inconvenience. Something to be brushed aside. Maybe that’s why we never fit. Two souls, trapped in the same body. Perhaps never to make peace.

[arshiya-betweenlines]

The War of the Heads and Hearts:

Have you ever heard people regard the brain as the “thinker” and the heart as the “feeler”?

That the brain is logic and the heart is emotions?

That the brain knows and the heart understands? But—I don’t think that’s true.

Both the brain and the heart feel the same emotions, endure the same hardships and break under the same weight.

It’s just that the heart lets itself feel it. It allows itself to break.

The brain? It doesn’t have that luxury.

Even when it hurts it suffers in silence.

Even when the thoughts spiral, it stays quiet.

Why? Because it has responsibilities.

It doesn’t get to shatter.

It doesn’t get to rest.

It is the only anchor for the heart.

Just like that, I have to be the brain here. I cannot let my feelings ruin me. They need me. He needs me. I cannot afford to fall weak when I have people to care for.

When I have a life to look forward to.

Friends and more to take care of.

I can’t fall short.

He’s hurting. And I can’t do shit to stop it. “He’s behaving like a robot,” they say. But they don’t say that they made him this way.

They don’t say that they are the one who stripped him of his originality.

It hurts seeing him this way.

He says he’s okay. But he’s not.

He says it’s fake. I know it’s not.

“How do I help him,” I repeat to myself again and again and again, hoping that repeating it continuously will give me an answer.

I’m helpless. I’m supposed to help him. I’m supposed to be there for him. I’m supposed to make him happy. I’m so useless. Useless useless useless.

Till I become blind to the truth.

But—I won’t share this with anyone else. Because, I am the brain… right?

[arshiya-betweenlines]

"To the world, she is formidable. To me? She is the world."

[lebuc]

expansively

* absorbing what my eyes espy to what i’ve been exposed, when daunting doors are opened where one time they were closed

when i raise the window for air before i raise cain, or the roof

i realize it’s all hypothetical... the secret, the way, the proof.

we begin, wend and rend unto righteousness in our eyes, but it only serves to rule where or when we’ve been apprised

that there’s much, much more beyond, unreachable in actual fact  by a physical or mental wand or at least, with sanity intact..

still - it’s there for the seeking if only we’d adjust our aim, endure a little more tweaking, display a little more game it’s all experimental—

so try & adjust your perspective might help you to vault the collective; try to adjust your perception then trust in the world’s new reception.

as long as we’re willing to see a bit more expansively; it can all become a bit more - in our eyes - lo-ve-ly. * 3/15 - 6/26 - lebuc - expansively

[arshiya-betweenlines]

“If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?" 

[balmainbabyyy]

if im on your mind, let me know

[arshiya-betweenlines]

Think I need someone. Don't know how long I can hold on. I'm drowning

And my enemy is me

[arshiya-betweenlines]

I love them. But I don’t like them:

I love them. But I don’t like them. I want to be everything that’s not them. Yet, everyday– I feel myself turning into a reflection of them. Controlling. Apathetic. Harsh on the people who don’t deserve it.

I feel… nothing honestly. Not even pain anymore. Just acting up sometimes.

Each time I promise myself that I’d react differently this time, I find myself doing the exact thing they did to me. I swore. I promise I still do. But I don’t know. I feel myself becoming the monster I feared. And I hate myself for it.

Monsters aren’t always beasts with horns or tails. Sometimes, they’re the ones who love you, but didn’t know how to show it properly. So instead, they taught you love was pain. And worth– a payment for it.

I hate the fact that I’m so aware of that fact yet can’t help but behave that way. I hate bringing gratitude into question, it reminds me how that question made me feel insufficient, as if I was supposed to be grateful for giving birth to me. Was that supposed to be a favor? I didn’t ask for this. They didn’t either. I know. I understand.

But we keep fueling that cycle of abuse. As if someone else, someone innocent is supposed to pay for mistakes in our upbringing. 

I want to break that cycle.

Today it is my turn. Tomorrow will be my brother’s. One day my kids. It’s just DNA. Or maybe we’re just trying to shift blame onto it when it’s really conditioning.

Perhaps I need isolation now. From people. From emotions. Until I start thinking with my head. Until that cycle is broken.

[arshiya-betweenlines]

[latinamamiix]

I love when I don’t have to ask

[arshiya-betweenlines]

You say:

You say you love her. And perhaps you do, Right now. 

But do you love her when she's in her comfy slacks? And mismatched socks?

Do you love her when her hair isn’t straight anymore But falls into curls, They think are unnecessary?

Do you love her when she spends her paycheck On things you'd call unnecessary?

Or do imperfections become excuses To chip away at her?

Do you love her when she’s too tired, To be the one who listens. And needs to be heard instead?

Do you love her when she can’t tell you, Whats swirling in her head, Because the words refuse to come out anymore?

Or do you just love the version of her, Who asks for nothing?

The version who smiles when asked, Who carries your grief with you. And never lets you see her in the dark?

The version of her who takes the blame, Thinking she deserved it.

The version you wound so easily, As if it were paper, And not a heart.

[undiscovered33]

iubesc totul la tine si am nevoie de tine zilnic, chiar si-n zilele si saptamanile foarte proaste ale tale, pentru ca iubirea nu e despre perfectiune, iubirea e despre a vedea propria fericire in ochii, glasul si zambetul tau, care de fapt e al meu. poate eu as fi enervant incercand sa-ti transform o zi, sau o saptamana, sau o luna proasta intr-o perioada de fapt buna, fiind goofy, fiind mai atent la tine decat la mine, fiind mai concentrat pe noi decat de obicei, pentru ca uneori iubirea merge pe pilot automat, insa alteori cere multa atentie si rabdare.

[arshiya-betweenlines]

And what if my bad days don't soften so easily?

What if the smile you love disappears for a while, and my voice carries more silence?

Would you still stay when there is nothing beautiful to rescue?

You can’t turn every storm into sunshine. I only need to know that you won't fear the rain as it drenches us both.

And when you are willing to meet me there, on the ordinary days, the difficult weeks, the moments when I am not easy to love, then perhaps what you call love is real.

Not because you think it’s perfect, But because you stay through the imperfections.

And when you do, Perhaps I will see, That your love is all I need.

[undiscovered33]

Fericirea mea, e fericirea ta. Intotdeauna mi-au placut furtunile. Iar dupa orice furtuna vine cel mai senin si frumos cer, alaturi de un curcubeu ce arata ca exista culoare dupa un cer gri. Ce-mi doresc e de fapt toata paleta de culori cu tine, inclusiv negrul, pentru ca viata nu e despre doar fericire, insa iubirea e doar despre fericirea celuilalt pe care-l iubesti, iar inclusiv negru poate fi transformat in baby blue cu suficienta atentie si iubire. Teiubesc 🩵

[arshiya-betweenlines]

Then let me be honest with you.

I am not a storm waiting for the rainbow, I’m the grey skies themselves, And sometimes, I stay longer than I’m welcome.

And if my happiness is just as yours, Then let me be the peace in your storms too, The bubble of quiet in your chaos.

Because love is not carrying one’s grey skies, It’s holding the rain both bring.

I’m the burden you don’t want to hold, Even so, If you wish to love the whole palette, Including my black and greys, Without trying to change my blacks, Into baby blues, Then know that I cherish you more than my words could ever say.

I love you too 🩵

[arshiya-betweenlines]

Wishes:

What is it to wish? I never knew how to ask for them, Yet I had tons.

I wished that time would last forever, And so would the happiness it brought, Alas it has turned to crushing sadness I can’t overcome.

I wished, that maybe someone would, See past the fortress I built, But how would they? When my walls were so impossibly high.

I wished they would stay, Without begging with my self esteem in my knees.

I wished someone would love me, The way I did them.

I wish someone would hold me, The way I did.

I wish they would acknowledge, That I’m not okay, and I can’t do this alone.

Is it just a fantasy, Or will these wishes ever come true?

I wonder, Until my last breath.