T.

weaving poetry out of my misery.

[novembermetaphors]

I did nothing but refused to be his punching bag.

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

I feel shame not under my skin beneath my flesh but on the surface. On the surface of my fleeting existence, the agony thriving in my father's eyes is burning my skin. I can no longer breathe without feeling guilty about it. I do not deserve to exist in this house. I am way too wretched to be looked upon, shame resides upon my skin. Blending my existence into mere regret. I curse my heart for beating still. The nights are short and days are long, sunshine burns my skin. I have found my abode in darkness, shame has wrapped my flesh.

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

Let me be. Let me breathe. Let me be. Let me be. Let me be for once. Let me restart from the start. Let me not lose myself. I have been losing a lot of time.

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

I can feel it in my bones. My ribcage screaming to get away. Collapse without my flesh and stop the beating of my heart. My heart shall surrender, it is all a shame to exist, it is a shame for my heart to keep beating. I can feel it in my bones— the sheer desire to end it all.

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

But I was supposed to have it altogether. I do not. I do not. I am just another flawed human blaming the flawed world while replacing the calendar—

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

Haasil huye niyaamat ko rulaana aur lahaasil iflaas ke liye rona. Iss daur ke logon ki yeh sabse nayaab fitrat hai.

—Toushif J.

[novembermetaphors]

Woh Jo nikle iss dil ke gehraiyon se Ghalib. Phir hum bhi jazbaaton ka ek diwaar banke reh gaye.

—Toushif J.

[novembermetaphors]

You could tell, by the way I blanked out from conversations. You knew something was wrong. Instead of asking questions, you left me with your mystery of disappearance.

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

If I write, know that I do intend on to be read, to be understood. For if I fall and there's no one to help with standing back up, if there's no one to watch me fall— am I even alive? Do I even matter? I have been questioning my existence for quite some time, but to look for answers in the void is to peep into the abyss. I am nothing but a misunderstood being, wasting my days, waiting to be understood.

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

If it were my mother, she would've declared yesterday a disaster. Cut hope out from tomorrow and call it a regret. Yesterday— a ghost, haunts her today. Tomorrow— a mirage, eyes open to the dawn sun only to realise there's no tomorrow. [All we have is today]

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

"You cannot do anything about it." You stare at your wounds long healed leaving behind scars as a reminder of the pain, the pain which didn't give anything in return. No, I did not get stronger after that. I did not learn how to let go easily after years of stagnation. I gained nothing but loss of appetite, night staring at the ceiling, days awaiting for dusk to arrive. The coffee got cold, so did I. I stopped showing up for myself. I stopped romantizing life. I stopped being good. I lost the genuine smile. I have become a breathing body with no direction to head on. Whispering prayers towards the dusk sky—"don't let me witness the dawn tomorrow". What an unfathomable tragedy to lose oneself in order to win this world. But ain't all tragedy unfathomable?

—Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[perfectquote]

“Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tip toe if you must, but take the step.”

— Naeem Callaway

[novembermetaphors]

I lost track of time while pretending to mend my life. But how can a broken soul fix something humane?

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

I was always disgusted with the thought of people ghosting people until I became the one curled up in a corner hiding from the outside world. How do I tell you, I want to talk to you but I do not know how? Will you believe me if I tell you, I have been thinking about you so much that my imagination has become my home. I cannot deal with this outside world. I cannot make eye contact. I am losing myself alongside people I have called mine. Forgive me for ghosting you, forgive me for not answering the calls. I am way too entangled with my thoughts strangling around my oesophagus. I am stuck with a knot in my throat, I keep losing track of time, I keep losing myself.

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

It has been a month since I did not journal. I did not have the courage to talk to myself, I kept running from one errand to another hoping I will find a way out. But as the saying goes "the only way out is through". So a month after I am sitting with white pages asking questions, all I want is to close the diary and run away. I do not have the courage to talk to myself. —to other souls? My entire existence trembles with the thought of not having answers to their questions.

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

How do you know peace is departing? When nights are spent in hospital rooms. Awaiting for the next visit, and smile through it. Hum of hope in the empty corridors whilst entrusting the helplessness beneath your flesh. What do you do when you want to mend the hurt but you just stare at their face and wonder how much time do I have with them?

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors

[novembermetaphors]

It seems as if there is no way out of this grief. When you're surrounded by family yet lonely and how long can one keep confiding in friends. There comes a certain point when you lose your sanity and that ultimately snatches you away from the ones who matter. Grievance makes you isolated when all you want is to have someone by your side.

— Touhida K. @novembermetaphors