"When The World Shuts Down And The Quiet Shushes And The Darkness Cloaks, I Do The Opposite. My Small

We will breathe for the dead. They cannot suffocate all of us. Honor their legacy. Rest in Power kings and queens. ✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

They looked over from the cliff, hand in hand, into the void. The presence of each other, the burning warmth of their hands and the intensity of their love was enough to null the feeling of loss, of loneliness and above all, the crushing hopelessness and suffocating fear. Here they were safe, they were determined and most importantly they were ready. And they were ready together. They did not possess the knowledge if their friendship would last more than one lifetime, but for now they would make it last forever, as long their flame burns and they draw their breaths, as long as their eyes glitter with determination. They will last. All was not alright, but it will be, and they'll be there together. They were enough.

"Watch a man flow with the river of love, watch him emerge and then watch him flourish."

The Comet Book (1587), details, “16th-century treatise on comets, created anonymously (or maybe it was a woman who endured erasure) in Flanders”. Originally named in german Kometenbuch.

“(Isn’t memory often about loneliness?)”

— David Bottoms, from “Black Horses,” Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch (Copper Canyon Press, 2018)

Tired, ancient soul,

What secrets do those eyes hide

That you shelter so close to your chest

A chest that is bursting at the seams

With raw anguish,

But beautiful soul

Pain isn't meant to last

And neither is happiness

These fleeting emotions

Hold not tight to them

Because the only immortal here

Is You

~Me

I made a room for you in my mind.

I was foolish, I thought you were kind.

I never noticed the knife when you came from behind.

Or the chains on my arms that bind,

Or the cloth over my eyes that blinds.

I remember when I lovingly made a room for you in my mind.

I was wrong, you weren't kind

~Me

Short Stories #2

2. Waiting

Heels clicked against the polished, stone floor as nurses in white and teal, carrying paperwork and various instruments hurried by. Hands typed on keyboards in a flurry while also picking up calls for appointments and guiding a long line of patients. The smell of disinfectant and sanitizer never failed to assault the senses but you get used to it after a while. Soft murmurs and chatters lazily floated in the room creating a lull in the air which would be shattered by the sudden, alarming announcement for the next patient. Irritation simmered underneath my skin as unruly children ran around untamed, threw magazines at each other and spilled water on the floor while the parents chit chatted or scrolled on their screens. Somewhere in the back a child started wailing. I heaved a deep sigh and felt the beginnings of a pounding headache. I was already here longer than I should have been, absolutely annoyed that they delayed my appointment to twenty minutes later. A man to my right kept distractingly tapping his water bottle, his fingers moving in a synchronized rhythm. The little boy to my left kept shifting in his seat and would get up every two minutes to explore the restroom despite being reprimanded by his mother repeatedly. A woman across me crossed her legs and shook her foot while another tapped her obnoxiously high heeled shoes. Restless and bored, that's what they all were. The wailing of the baby had now reached a high intensity, ear piercing shriek which left the father no choice but to take his child outside. A few people sighed in relief. I, too, heaved another deep sigh but not of relief, as my headache reached its potential and banged against my skull. I wondered, not for the first time, how long it would take for my turn. Till then, I'll be waiting.

When did I get so grey. Or maybe I have always been this dull shade of nothingness. I'd like to think that I was once an exuberant yellow just to have something to compare with. To know that I've moved and changed and grown, to know that I had once tasted the sun,that I held it in my gentle hands and for once I didn't burn. But that's a lie isn't it? A comforting one but a lie nonetheless. Maybe I've always been grey.

~Me

i hate everyone on twitter posting one liner quips about iran right now