#alpoetry

[ariellafayette]

Hers is a heart that only knows survival. You have to be ready. She’s already decided she’ll survive you too.

- Ariel Lafayette, Oblivion: Our Temporary Infinity

 

[frnajdi]

don’t tell me women are inferior to men when Zainab, Ali’s daughter is what adorned him not his sons, not himself, nor his deed, only his daughter

[lightningveines]

I swear to myself that I would stop Kissing whiskey glasses Drowning traces of you With alcohol in pulsing rooms Filled with the scent of other men

But my glazed eyes seem to see you In every corner, in every face And in a drunken stupor, These lips tasted just like you

I swear to myself that I would stop Begging for the familiarity of Those once welcoming arms In the beds of someone else

But they traced the skin of my back With their eager hands like yours Splitting me open with hungry mouths Eating me up like a ripe fruit

I wish that I could stop thinking of you.

- a.l.

[ariellafayette]

From my debut poetry collection, “Oblivion: Our Temporary Infinity”

Available on Amazon NOW!

[lightningveines]

I think I have lost a large part of myself after him. 

I hate admitting that out loud. Or even in words. 

There is this unspoken shame - going utterly insane for someone else, especially one who did not share the same intensity. 

It was the equivalent to driving without headlights on the wrong side of the road with a crazy musing that what if I was to crash into something in the dark. If I squinted just the right amount, incoming headlights blurs into pretty bokeh. Like how I saw him as a prince instead of a warning.

I suppose I let it happen. Maybe I could have walked away so much earlier. 

But there I was, a lost traveller without a GPS. I could only navigate around my sadness with him holding my hands. I figured out that drowning in his eyes didn't seems like a bad idea. And even if we were actually drowning, I would give him the only life jacket. I’m a lost cause.

I forgot what happens when you depend on someone that much.

And the truth is… I might always love him.

I still see him in everything. I still see us in everywhere. And in these times, I just wish that I could stop seeing poetry in everything. 

He wasn't even an ex but an almost. I wonder if I am even allowed to mourn this ending. I wasn't granted this grief in the way I figured I should be. We hadn't loved in “public” ways, always behind closed doors, always behind screens. No Facebook declaration that we were together, no notification that we’d gone in different directions. No recording of when I said I can’t do this anymore.

I couldn't keep being his friend when we’d fall into bed, holding each other and he’d say things like, “I'm not sure anyone else has ever understood me like you.”, “I love you more than you think I do.”, “I've never cared for another girl as much as I care for you.” And then a sad smile to end of, always. That’s what happen when you date your best friend.

You’d think a lot. You’d care a lot. You’d cry a lot.

You remember how happiness pooled fuzzily in your stomach or how laughter made your lungs its home for the time being. So every time you breathed, you breathed out balloons of laughter to fill the room with. You remember how your throat caught on fire every time your name slips through his lips. In good ways. Or in the “I'm in a burning mess of destruction and I don’t want to leave alive.” I couldn't walk away.

I couldn't text him anymore, or laugh and cry. Because half the time, I feel like my internal organs were seconds away from spontaneous combustion all the time. And the other half, I'm bent over the toilet bowl, shoving my fingers down my throat, hoping to get all the bad inside, out.

I showed him every one of my old scars, and he would look at me with those eyes, pleading me to stop, saying that he was hurting for me. Empty words, empty promises. I am running out of space, running out of breath and running thin of sanity. Because now, I'm covered in fresh ones, painting the floor with red, because he dropped me and I, I shattered.

You know when your heart get hurt so many times, all the nerve endings die and you can no longer feel anything? Well, when he left, he took a large piece of my heart with him and destroyed what was left. I can never get it back. 

I know I have lost a large part of myself.

- a.l. //Excerpt of a book I’ll never write//

[lightningveines]

Do you know what to do when fear creeps up at you and makes your hollow heart a room for the night, keeping you awake with all the noise? Do you know what to do when chilly hands are wrapped around your neck as though the weeds of unspoken words in your throat aren't already making it hard to breathe? Do you know what to do when swarms of bees are angrily stinging your eyes - for your tears, they are not sweet - and the buzzing is louder than your pain? Do you know what to do when you feel yourself falling into the abyss and knowing you will shatter? Because I don't. 

- a.l.

[lightningveines]

I'd ask God to grant me wings to fly free from a shipwreck called myself as my heart has became a mangled mess, covered with tangled veins and unspoken strings of words. 

But instead, I find myself fishing for love in oceans my eyes have created. 

-a.l.

[lightningveines]

little.

we are little bursts of stardusts swirling dancing in our very core we are little drops of tears spilling down someone’s cheeks we are little bits of trampled hearts left on the road to be forgotten we are little people in a massive messy messy world

and I’m hugely glad to be a little part of your life

– a.l.