I Am Stuck In A Cage

i know,

that you didnt wanna try,

that you were tired,

that you were dying.

tell me sweetheart,

what is it that keeps you alive ?

is it

l o v e

or

r e g r e t ?

no matter how much i try,

in the end i became what i feared,

just an average.

do i wanna add a tag?

NO BITCH

I DON'T

how often do i have to convey myself that i am not a monster?

how often do i have to hate myself for being proud of that?

Love Between Lines

-

Growing up,

I found getting lost in books

Was the best way to survive.

All sorts of stories,

Where someone is saved,

And happily ever after is never explained.

Paper cuts and the smell of cigarettes,

Separating fact from fiction.

I think now on how you grew up,

Parallel alongside me.

How I'd come to accept that while books

Imitated life,

There would be no savior,

No happily ever after for someone

Like me.

You existed outside of my realm of knowledge,

A lightning strike for a smile

And beautiful-

Like the heroes from the storybooks.

Do you like mint with chocolate?

I had asked,

And you hesitated with lightning.

Honesty, honesty, honesty.

Such simple questions to unravel my worldview,

To find there was a story being written about me all along-

Just within you.

Depends on the context,

You laughed.

But yes, I do.

I do too.

I do too.

x

Untitled 15/7/24

Writing and rewriting the same lines,

Over and over again,

Thinking, That’s awful, this is awful, why can’t you write something good for once.

For once? Something good for once?

If it’s as awful as you’re saying it is,

Why do(es) literally everybody you know who you show it to,

And even people you “know” superficially via social media and one shared interest,

Praise it constantly?

And why do even the most unpolished of first drafts receive that same praise?

Maybe you’re actually a decent author & poet?

Ever think of that?

-oaks

The Dreams of My Childhood

When I was a kid, I had tons of dreams

I was going to go to space I was going to be an astronaut I learned the constellations and the stations of the moon I watched mesmerized at videos of shuttle launches and I'd jump and cheer at the eventual splashdown I'd watch the stars at night so I guess some things just never change But when I couldn't figure out how to use a telescope I gave up on it all, as if it never existed

I was going to be a rockstar some day

I'd learn every cassette and CD that found it's way to me Even the one's I disliked Singing along to Alan Jackson Elvis Presley and Motley Crue I was going to learn to play guitar And I find myself still saying those words because some things just don't change But I never has the actual ambition or that little bit of starter talent And I never liked to be in the spotlight So when things got a little hard, I just got off

I was going to be author I was going to write a story that was beloved I was going to write of love and emotions and all the things that make up a good person and all those that create the villain but I never finish what I've started and I'm writing cryptic messages in badly written poetry A vomiting of my sub-conscience all over the sidewalk outside your old apartment door I write for this to spill my guts to let strangers judge me Some dreams, they just never change

he could afford to walk away.

i was a nobody.

i could not afford to walk away.

he was my lifeline.

I wish.

“Love yourself. Be clear on how you want to be treated. Know your worth. Always.”

— maryam hasnaa