#thisisafreens

[thisisafreen]

"In degenerate times, modesty is an act of rebellion."

-Afreen Razvi

[justscribbledwords]

starting to accept the hurt i caused myself

i created a perfect monster for myself. i let you do everything to me. all the things i had promised i won’t ever do to myself, all the things i promised i won’t ever let be done to me. i let you take out your frustration, your tired, your sad, your everything but happy out on me. i let you reserve your happy for someone else and i hoped that someday you would share your happy with me, at least a little bit of it. but i forgot, i let you give me your worst and i had no right to expect anything but that from you since you never had a best, at least never for me

[dg-fragments]

Philosophical Decay

These falling pieces, slowly withering away,

A process, long overdue,

Perhaps a rebirth, lies in the waiting,

For now, this decay, gradual fading,

Shards that were held together,

Fall off as demolition keeps on the roll,

A philosophical existence,

On the verge of extinction,

But perhaps the will is still there,

To withstand, the storms,

Which have begun to wage,

Against what was a mere human once,

Now a daunting phenomenon of philosophy.

- DG

[jmsapphire]

There are leaves that survive deserts

And frosted leaves that wither cold

Beauty in its extreme forms life

And nature's graces firmly hold

Just as sunshine builds and blesses

So do hail and rain and sand storms

Falter one wills at times and falls -

Every season will be wild and tame

As no two souls are such the same

So does a breath breathe deeper

faster or warmer or colder another

Does not mean that it is any less.

[afreenisnotapoet]

Your scars are not imperfections,

Crying doesn’t make you weak,

Listening to yourself doesn’t make you selfish,

Loving yourself doesn’t make you a narcissist,

Laughing your heart out doesn’t make you look weird,

Singing along to songs while walking doesn’t make you look like a hippie,

Cutting out the wrong people from your life shouldn’t make you feel deserted,

Doing what you feel is right isn’t making the wrong decision,

Burning bridges that connect you to places you want to forget isn’t called being detached,

Sharing your feelings doesn’t make you vulnerable,

Being you doesn’t mean anything to anyone but means more to you,

If you do something for yourself,

It is for yourself,

No explanations are needed to be given.

-afreen

[heartofmuse]

And it hurts me so much to see you everyday living your life without me. To see you go about the mundane tasks of life without me being the lightness in your step; watching you laugh without me being the cause of it;knowing, I am no longer the hidden reason behind every poem. I am cursed to watch from afar how the thing I most long for no longer longs for me. To watch you be embraced by other arms and kissed by other lips that I know cherish you not like mine do is torture to my soul. Knowing that though you are no longer mine, I am forever yours.

e.v.e.

[justanothermuddledkid]

GUILT

When you are the only one awake in the room, hearing your own breath rise and fall like wavering winds; When peaceful sleep becomes too much to wish for, And you try to muffle your worries under the pillow; When you feel time vanish as the night grows old, And each beat of your heart is a count down to doom; You realise that sleepless nights are just a part of the price you've paid for your sins.

-Hira // guilt keeps me awake.

[poet-aster]

tick-tock

It was still dark. Did I wake again? I tried to look at the clock. Not working but I heard the ticking.

I looked at the ceiling and thought that maybe I could fall asleep again. I closed my eyes for a couple of ticks.

I blinked. I could have search the room but no. My eyes were already fixated on something.

The woman in my dreams was lying beautifully at the ceiling, disregarding gravity once again.

Her cloak was widely spread, like calm waters at night, covering the ceiling with a dark crimson fabric.

Like before, she has no eyes, or maybe it was there. Her mouth wet and grimed 

Teeth glistening from the moonlight. Tongue playing them.

Gradually, her saliva got into my cheeks, some in my mouth. Slimy, sticky, sour, spoiled.

She laughed. No, it was shrieking. Do banshees shriek? It took her too long before she stopped.

Then stared at me. But with no eyes? Maybe it was just too dark, absorbing all the light.

Now reaching me with her arms, too long to be called arms. Even so, her bony arms looked like they were about to crumble

She giggled because I am scared. Scared that this might not end. That she knows. Because I couldn’t close my eyes and I had to see her. That she knew.

Her arms were still reaching me but it wasn't long enough even though it was already too long to be called arms. She was taking her time.

I blinked. Again. I said blinked but it felt like my eyes were closed for hours. This time her body was suddenly distorted. Her limbs are twisted. Bones are out. Still, she smiled, like it was a good thing, bones baring.

I want this to end but I don't know how to cease it.

I’m sweating marbles. My body, shaking.

I had the urge to blink but I didn’t. I was afraid that if I did, she would kiss me.

I glanced at the ticking clock. Time did not pass. I looked up again but now she's gone.

I was crying. I am crying. I couldn't stop. She was gone. Out of my sight but I could still smell her. I was still hearing her panting. Something shifted on my bed.