The Restlessness of Me…

I am out looking for my words again because I need them.  I am reminded once again of the truth that in essence, what you truly need, you will find in yourself.

I read somewhere that “loneliness is a hard thing to handle. I feel it, sometimes. When I do, I want it to end. Sometimes, when you’re near someone, when you touch them on some level that is deeper than the uselessly structured formality of casual civilized interaction, there’s a sense of satisfaction in it. Or at least there is for me.”  But how long does that satisfaction last?  The satisfaction is so fleeting now, followed by regret, more questions and a painful, screaming “aloneness”. For after all, does that interaction even base itself on anything that is even remotely YOU in the truest sense or is it as everything else, just a second place substitute, accepted because at least it is something!
Here’s an honest confession.  I am a beautiful woman.  My skin glows, my eyes sparkle and my smile will make you feel like a king.  My hair can feature in an ad for a shampoo.  I could wear a potato sack to a wedding and still get more compliments than I can handle.  Here’s another confession!  I hate the way I look.  I am reduced to the colour of my skin and the arrangement of my features.  I hate the way I look because it has reduced me to nothing beyond it.  I dazzle people and I have the acting skills to keep them that way; dazed and confused, unable to look away from me, and yet unable to see me as I am…  I am exactly who they want to see.

But then, I don’t want them to see me.  Because the me that I am, is terrifying.  Insecure, angry, frustrated and oh so discontent!  I have a battle going on inside myself.  And I am plagued by the eternal question of what I was sent to this world for.  I just know that it wasn’t ‘this’!  And this is everything in my life that I have done so far and am doing every day.

I sometimes feel that perhaps I want too much.  The people I connect to emotionally find me exhausting because then I am all there.  And I admit, I demand time from them, just for me.  But as in all relationships, I often end up feeling like I have been slapped in the face when I ask for something.

I’m tired, subjugated by my own wants, which in turn are superceded by people who are bound by their own limitations! Why do their limitations and complexes and concerns become hurdles to the fulfillment of what I need?  Because I deem their requirements more important than my own?  No, I’m not that selfless.  My mind says Fuck off, and it switches off that emotional switch that makes me go to them.  And even then, I am the one who hurts.

This is not what Allah made me for.  I know it.  And I know what I need to do.  Except that for someone who claims to be brave, I am a pitiful coward.  I know what I need to do, will break most, if not all the bonds that tie me to people because then I will no longer be the one they want.  But a part of me is looking forward to saying ENOUGH!  A part of me is waiting for me…

(….To be continued)


In Return for a Soul…

From Sinfest:





Why do I let you have the power to reduce me to tears?


Shards of Colour

Broken bangles

Curves and slivers

Red, blue, green, yellow

*Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle*

and a wash of red spills through

a pale arm, hair in disarray

and vacant eyes…

and the bangles falling to the floor…

*tinkle tinkle tinkle*


Still Waters…

Do you know why I seek you out…

Day after day…


So many countless times, during the day?

You see my love,

It is only in your still waters

that I can truly, clearly see myself…

(Inspired from “No one can see their reflection in running water. It is only in still water that we can see” – A Taoist Proverb)




Lost and Found

People tell me

I’m losing myself in you…

That is what love is doing to me…

They don’t understand..

(..But then should I really expect them to understand…)

… It’s where I’ve found myself too!


The Scent of a Man…

She giggles.. And then covers her mouth with her hand lest the sound escape…


But the mirth bubbles up again and she laughs out loud, spinning in a circle till she falls on the bed…

Sheeesh! To think happiness comes down to hugging an article of clothing that has his scent on it…

Oh but it does!

She brings the shirt up to her face, but she sees him, feels only him..

As the essence of something uniquely him wraps around her, she can feel his arms holding her, feel the glide of his lips on her hair…

Hear his heartbeat in her ear…

It’s the only slice of heaven she needs…


The Fallacy of Women… I

It never fails to surprise me!

Men’s arrogant presumption that women fall for their lines or God forbid, for them…

We don’t go blind or deaf, you delusional fools that we can’t see how you play us. The promises, the ploys, the words, I’ve heard them all and I know how they are used to get what you want without the added baggage.  Conventional rules don’t apply to me, but you forget that I’m not conventional either.

When I say I love you, it does not mean that my mind does not process what you say and what you mean when you use those same words.  I don’t fall for the words.  I fall for what they represent, because no matter how strong I am, somewhere in my gene code is a woman who wants that security of having a man look after me, to not have to be so strong all the time… but that’s another story, for another day.

Let’s just say I know what you’re after.  Dress it up as pretty as you want darling, it doesn’t change the facts of what you want…  And the game is usually only as good as the chase!  Not that you don’t enjoy the capture and capitulation…  The thrill of that first warm spurt of blood down a predator’s throat when he bites down on a gazelle’s neck… Bliss!

But be warned dear, that behind my half closed eyes, my mind is awake and it breathes and watches and waits…  It knows who I am and also knows what it needs to do when I need to snap out of it.  Women are purposefully, knowingly fools!  And men, bless their little ….. well, just bless, think they have tamed her.

Remember love, If I am being used for your gratification, it is because I allow it.  It has nothing to do with you.  Besides, gratification is a two-way process.

Body chemistry and reaction!  It’s how we’re programmed to respond.  The affection, the touch, the kiss… I could yearn for the physicality of that expression and gratification as much as you…  And since, conventional rules don’t apply, let’s play the game…  So you use me and I use you…  And what happens after…

I will say ENOUGH!  And I will walk away from you and all you represent…

For no reason, except that you have served your purpose and I am no longer willing to play the fool…



Peace… Ya Allah! Peace!


One Last Time…

So I will meet him tomorrow..

For what my heart hopes is the last time…

I want this to end!  I am too exhausted from the endless justifications, and apologies and waiting for the what ifs to go away.  The love that meant so much is gone, exhausted.. drained from giving too much for the last 5 years without hope…

I don’t want a relationship where I am expected to be the strong one, and take care of things all the time… Once in a while, I yearn to be held in my sorrow with hands soothing my brow…

I want things to be taken care of where I don’t have to decide all the time…

I am sick of waiting for him to grow up!

I cannot give anymore and so I became cruel and cold and told him so…

Now he wants to meet me to give the words to his funeral prayer…

Is he going to hurt himself or me?  I don’t know…

And the fact, that I don’t care worries me…

Will he die?  I don’t know.. I don’t want him to… but if he does, how much am I to blame?

Will I die? Again, I don’t know… Will his irrefutable proof of love for me be in the form of a bullet to my head and then his own…?

I still want it to just end…  This is not giving me life as it is…  And if the end calls for this, then so be it!

March 2023