You know what,
 
I have been chewed and spat out a zillion times with the name of love.
People that I have gladly called lovers didn't blink twice as they kicked me while I was down begging them to stay.
It took me four years of selling myself short, three selfish lovers and forty-nine wine bottles to admit that maybe love isn't my thing,

Three heartbreaks, to realize that some people will still love themselves more than they love you no matter how hard you try,
Two dates with that guy that I really didn't like, to realize that you can stand absolutely naked before someone's eyes talking about your issues with your dad, and he won't see beyond the flesh of your breasts,
And one miracle, to realize that there is more to life than agony and disappointments,
The miracle of you.

Before you,

Everyone I loved has used my heart as a welcome doormat,
Even those I crushed on, crushed me under the weight of the word "almost",
Everyone walked away,
Even God,
Whom I now believe in his existence, depsite the numerous unreturned letters I sent him, for he sent you my way,
I mean, Me, meeting you, can't just be a chance, or some sort of a cosmic big bang, it has to be something divine.

Do you hear me lover?

You are god's hand reaching out for me to assure me he is still there,
You are my faith, and why I believe again in things I can't see,
You are the bond that ties me and god together,

And thanks to you,

Me and him are speaking again.

It’s not fair,
That you are all my happy thoughts,
and my deepest fears,
At the same time.

When my first lover left, I saved all his memories on white sheets of paper, With ink and blood. When i fell in love again, I celebrated my ability to still love and be loved, With poems and hearts drawn on every notebook corner. When i walked away on someone who loved me, And broke a heart that wished me no harm, I left my guilt between the pages of a notebook, I keep hidden under my bed. It’s assuring how i always knew, That i have my writing by my side. People come and go, but their stories stay, In the third drawer of my night stand. In nights, where nostalgia feeds on my sanity, I open that drawer and read about those i miss, To remember why they left and how i shouldnot be missing them now. I read about the breaks and scars that got me here, So whenever i think my life would stop after someone leaves, My writings remind me of all the people i had to let go, And how i learnt about new ways to breathe on my own. But then i met you, And the words that have been the blanket that keeps me warm in winter, Changed to be my abstract nakedness in the middle of a snow storm, And only your arms can cover me. I am naked. I am cold and i can’t write a word, That diary i bought when i first know you, Still brand new, i don’t have the guts to let any parts of you out of me. I wake up in the middle of night, With my bones straining under the pain, Of all the poems that are aching to be written for you. How can you fill me up with all these words, Yet leave me so speechless? My fingers are all numb and tingly, Since the first day they traced the scars of the cuts, You used to do in places people can’t see, in the bathroom you locked yourself in, when your parents used to fight, So you can go out the next day wearing the fake ‘i’m fine’ smile. My hands are all shaky, Since the day you left a kiss in my left palm, And now i can only write poems, With my tongue, on the places of your body you least love. I wish i can tell you how i am still caught up in that moment, When you left all your being in a love bite on my neck, That i still press on from time to time, So the bruise would tell me it was real and it did really happen. I wish i can tell you, that, i have been a stranger since forever, And your bed is the only place i can call home. I wish i can tell you how you taught me to love something, That i can’t call mine, And reminded me how it feels like, To fear losing something i don’t even have. I wish i can tell you that in that dark room, I kissed you with my eyes open, So i can keep every moment of it, Engraved in all my senses, And the way you glowed, made it very easy. I wish i can tell you, how is, Touching you again, Is the only thing i am looking for now, And that i left my safety, Somewhere behind your ears, And i am scared shitless now. I wish i can tell you a lot of things, But my tongue can only move freely, In the corners of your mouth, So please, Have mercy on me, And tell me, what a girl that is entirely made of verbs and nouns,can do in presence of someone like you, who strips me off my entire being with half a smile?

The day i met you,
 I threw away my dream catcher,
Because i knew right then, 
That you are the only dream,
I wanted to come true.

An apology I really meant but won't make a difference

I am sorry that I am a person who loses interest & drifts away because of a word you said unintentionally in the middle of the conversation. 

I am sorry I always become passive and say nothing is wrong whenever i feel angry/mad/jealous or anything that will make me look vulnerable. 

I am sorry I hate your friends and everyone who gets to deal with you on a daily basis and I can’t. 

I am sorry I don’t call as much I want to call or say I love you everytime I get so overwhelmed by how much you mean to me. 

I am sorry I require too much effort and sometimes I get so hard to deal with. I am sorry that loving me is a full time job that leaves you drained most of the time. 

I am sorry I talk about nonsense with you and tweet or blog whatever the fuck I am feeling. 

I am sorry I am making you pay for the people who came before you and turned me into this worst version of me. 

I am sorry I don’t know how to say what I feel anymore but it is mostly because I don’t know how I am feeling most of the time. 

I am sorry I am always sad, distant and silent with no apparent reason. I am sorry for my double standards and blaming you for things I do myself, and mostly sorry when you say nothing and compromise for my sake. 

I am sorry for always being sorry and nothing ever changes. 

I am sorry I am not there as much as you want me to be. 

I am sorry for not being there even when I am there. 

I am sorry I always ask for more even when I know you have already tore yourself open for me. 

I am sorry I always made you feel like something is missing, when it was me who was missing all along. 

I am sorry I try to walk away every now and then because I promised myself long ago to never want anything as much as I want you, now. 

I am sorry my strength is all weakness that is breaking the both us. 

I am sorry that I don’t know if it will ever get better. 

I am sorry I am beyond repair. 

I am sorry you ended up with someone who can go from extreme happiness to crying on the bathroom floor in a blink of an eye. 

I am sorry I am too selfish to let you go so you can be with someone who can actually give you a funcional relationship. 

I am sorry I am both your dream and your nightmare. 

I am sorry I sometimes make you feel like it’s your fault or like you are not trying hard enough. You have been always perfect. It’s me. 

I am sorry for everytime I said leave me alone when my insides where screaming hug me, hug me, hug me. 

I am sorry I have made a home of you when leaving was always on my mind. 

I am sorry I am constantly losing parts of me to the nothingness that is eating me alive. 

I am sorry I am not stronger than this. 

I am sorry that I am 70% apathy not water. 

I am sorry I came into your life and messed it up this way for few moments of temporary happiness. 

And I am finally sorry, in advance, for having to walk away from your life and leave you with some memories of temporary happiness. I loved, love and will always love you, but here I am repeating the last words I tasted on my ex lovers’ lips before he walked away from me; Love is never enough.

دردشة مع الرب

أنا خائفة. أنا أرتعد. أشعر بي و أنا أتلاشى أمامي. أنا باهتة ككلمة كتبها طفل في كراسته و حاول أن يمسحها بممحاة رديئة. مرت ساعة كاملة و أنا أجلس أمام صفحة بيضاء عاجزة أن أخط فيها سطراً واحداً, فبعد أن تصالحت مع فقداني لقدرتي على قول ما أشعر به و أكتفيت بالكتابة عنه, أصبحت عاجزة حتى عن الكتابة أو ربما صرت عاجزة عن الشعور بشكل عام, فمصطلحاتي بخير و لكن مشاعري صدئة.
أنا مشوشة يا رب. أنا تعبة و لم تعد اللعبة مسلية تماماً, حسناً, أنا أستسلم, لقد دفعتني و سقطت على وجهي ألف مرة, و لألف مرة قمت, مسحت وجهي من أثار الأقدام التي دعست عليه و هي تتركني و ترحل و رسمت ابتسامة عريضة على وجهي و فتحت صدري بكل رحابة لعابرين جدد, فقط لأدرك أنهم, أيضاً, مجرد عابرون.
أنا زهقت يا رب, و مش قادرة أفكر في كلام أكتبه. أنت فاهم و عارف. الرُكب أتبرت من كتر الوقوع و راحة الإيدين مبقاش فيها حتة مش مجروحة من كتر ما بمسك في حاجات مش ليا, مبقاش فاضل حاجة تاخدها مني بعد ما خدتنى أنا مني, بلف و أرجعلك و مش فاهمة برضه أنا مطلوب مني ايه, خلاص كده يعني؟ مش هبقى مبسوطة أبداً تاني؟ يعني حتى الفرح المؤقت بقى كتير؟ ليه أنا؟ بيتهيألي أنت عارف أنا بقيت عاملة إزاي. السكات بقى أكتر من الكلام و اللي بمسحه لسه أكتر من اللي بكتبه, مش عارفة أقول, بفتح بقى و مفيش حاجة بتطلع, ببقى زعلانة و مفيش دموع بتنزل, ببقى عايزة أفضل و بمشي من نفسي. أنا تعبت مني و من الحاجات الناقصة اللي بتبوظ عليا أي فرحة, عارفة إني يمكن محظوظة أكتر من ناس كتير و كل الكلام ده, بس أنا برضه مش مبسوطة. معرفش, الرحمة من عندك بقى.

The word No has always been Sweeter than the word Yes

I refuse to be as they want me to be. I refuse to get married because they think there is a time frame for that and I might miss it. I refuse to stay at home just because it is raining and they think it is crazy to dance in the rain. I refuse to stop jumping head first in people who will most probably break my heart because this is what I want. I’d pick passion to safety anytime of the day. I will keep on setting fire to my soul that soon turns ice cold because of those who didn’t know how to make it grow. I will always believe in the kindness of strangers no matter how many times they let me down. I will keep on hugging the people I love even if you keep on telling me that it is not okay. I will hold their hands and pat on their backs and kiss them with lips that drips with high hopes that most probably will be broken. I will smile at specially those who frown. I will call my exes and say I miss them whenever i feel like I do, because this is the way I feel. I will decide on something and go for the exact opposite the very next day because I have every right to mess my life up. Because it is okay. I will learn all the rights and do all the wrongs. Kiss the stupid selfish boys and love the pretty messed up girls. I will always keep on thinking that vulnerable is the new sexy, and that people who wear their scars with their head high are the cutest. I will keep on loving God the way I see it not the way you read it in your books. I will reach out for the stars to make a beautiful tiara for every sad girl and grab the moon for every brokenhearted boy.
I am, I am, I am. I am, I am, I am you people. you might think I am crazy, but I am free. I am fucking free from all your thoughts\judgements\traditions and shoulds. I am my own, only my own, and I will still love you even if you judge me thinking you are some sort a tiny god roaming the earth, and it’s okay, because this is how you see your god, a god who only judge. But in my eyes; God is love. God is acceptance. God is peace. I am love. I am acceptance. I am peace.