Summer.Oh.Nine.

1,2,3..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
3,4,5..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
5,6,7..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
7,8,9..breaaaaaaaaaathe.

Doesn't work. So much. So much. So much going on in my small little head. I don't even know what to say or how to say it. Organic or inorganic cause, there is a cause and I fail to spot it. Yes, yes crazy much. People crave for summer breaks and here I am doing absolutely nothing expect oh, oh, oh washing dishes, cleaning up the house, refreshing Facebook homepages again and again, and sleeping to keep myself from slipping into depression. Vottay vacation! :)
Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish. Trash, kachra, garbage. That's just how trains of thoughts are. Continuous, flowing like mud from neuron to neuron. Sometimes collecting in a space, a cranial sinus maybe, clogging up the flow. Sedimenting. Sucking. Silently killing a few neurons. *dishum, dishum* those neural shot guns are working again! Slivers of silver and blue sparks amongst the mud, the ultimate 'good guys' make holes in the thick layer of muddy, creepy, slimy goo. The voids keep getting bigger and bigger. Until...voila! The mud's no more than very small segments of clay floating around in cerebrospinal fluid, waiting for favorable conditions again. I swear, I'm not bipolar, just very very very 'I don't know'. =)

Summer.Bummer.
Bummer.Summer.

Lets try agaaaain, Sidra.

1,2,3..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
3,4,5..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
5,6,7..breaaaaaaaaaathe.
7,8,9..breaaaaaaaaaathe.

Still doesn't work.

:)

First times. [*]

Taking those very first small steps,
those angelic feet touching the arid ground,
those innocent eyes staring up,
questioning everything in the surround.
From those times, up till now,
the same words eternally in my ears chime,
Sidra, there's always a first time.

When lunchboxes swang on our shoulders,
when we fought over pencil holders,
when collecting stickers meant war,
when the moon and stars were never far,
those curls that I tossed in the air,
when like Barbie's I first grew my hair,
from those times up till now,
the same words eternally in my ears chime,
Sidra, there's always a first time.

When I learnt how to open my locker,
when I hopelessly failed to play soccer,
those secrets we shared amidst giggles,
at the sight of highschoolers, we'd wiggle,
when that first crush meant the world,
those nascent feelings made us swirl,
from those times up till now,
the same words eternally in my ears chime,
Sidra, there's always a first time.

And every other time since that very day,
I hear the same chant in one or another way,
the first time, the second, the third, the last,
it always brings up a blast from the past,
when there was no option but recovery,
from a lover that ended in pain and misery,
that time too, the incantation repeated,
that no matter how dead you feel, or depleted,
there was always a first time,
the first time, you fell off your bike,
the first time, you scraped your knee,
the first time, you fell in love,
the first time, you soul felt free,
the first time, you were betrayed,
the first time, you cried when you prayed,
the first time, you undid your braids,
the first time, you realized you had to grow,
the first time, you finally had to let go,
the first time, you picked yourself up after a fall,
the first time, you built around you, a massive wall,
like always, there's always a first time.

multifaceted (adj)- having many facets or aspects.

Like an unattended bag left under the shade, totally oblivious to what its worth.

Like a counter bustling with exotic things that you've never seen before to choose from.

Like a boiling cup of coffee with an aroma enough to wake up the long, lost soul. A slice of cake that leaves a thick trace of chocolate on your lips even long after you've eaten it.

Like pictures on this wall, hiding the ugly yellow behind. Smiling to the tall gentleman, who walks in with his daughter or to the punk, smoking even the remnants of his cigar. Illusions, all illusions.

Like a box resting on a glass table. scribbled numbers, scrawny onions and peppers drawn all over, but so very empty inside, quite paradox to the colorful exterior it exhibits. with a burden resting above, so small to the naked eye, but so big to the soul of cardboard resting beneath.

And just like that life is multifaceted.

Fájdalom [*]

I'll close my eyes,
with all my might,
just to pretend,
that I am alright,
in this abysmal dark,
through out the night,
on the tattered parchment,
I shall solemnly write,
stories of tears & pain,
of love and of delight,
and as this night,
seeps into daylight,
the fires of the sun,
my soul it ignites,
on the banks of rivers,
on shores of the sea,
combating with sorrow,
fighting off misery,
clenching my fists,
very very tight,
pretending to know,
what exactly is right,
yearning to burn,
in a fire so bright,
to etch an abode,
in the sky tonight.

*Fájdalom : Hungarian for pain.

涙〔裂け目〕[*]

I have often wondered what tears taste like; pinches of salt tossed into droplets of water, sour like those grapes that the fox could never reach, sweet like cheap cola lollies that were pungently sour at the core or bitter like tasting your hands after grinding leaves with them. It just never made sense to me. Fat, warm droplets streaming across your cheeks, settling at your lips, or getting lost in the creases of the fabric below. Some even managing to run down your neck, figuratively slitting it down the middle, making you gulp more and more until you realize that no matter how much you gulp, you can never fill in the vacuum within you. During joy or depression, how those little sneaky tears never seemed to get enough of your company and kept coming back like a bunch of unexpected relatives. How, no matter what we do, we seem to welcome them with open arms.



* 涙〔裂け目- Japanese for tears.

Music-Come-Memories. =)

Every song has a memory. It does, seriously.

Aey Paapi [Kismat Konnection]:
Dammam: UNCERTAINTY! Potent amounts. When I'd just torture the couch in my lounge with my weight the whole freaking day, just watching Koffee with Karan! Lol. That was the only thing that kept me occupied. I don't want to go through the same time again! The drama, the nonsense, the stress was so bad! But alhamdullilah, whizzed through and survived! :)

Haule Haule [RNBDJ]:
Lahore: I first heard this song in a salon whilst getting a haircut. They kept playing it over and over again and I just loved it. I was busy wondering which movie this song belonged to as the hairdresser almost burned my ears with the blow dryer. This was the time when I was pampering myself after getting into Shifa. I was so relieved. Love that time, although I was VERY nervous about college and meeting new people, but still. Sighs.

Jaane Kyun [Dostana]:
Lahore: I would listen to this song again and again! This brings back memories of the times when I went to Anarkali to shop for my medical school supplies- lab coats, books, eosin and hematoxylin pencils and what-not. My mom was so proud of me when I first tried the lab coat on. I can't forget the look on her face. =)

Will add on later.

Before I Die.[*]

I want to see the sea,
to ride the waves,
hold the warm sands,
in my barren hands,
to wave a final goodbye,
just before I die.

Days tick by one by one,
away from time I fail to run,
needles chase me from each side,
and as guilt with me collides,
it kills me so much, I won't deny,
just before I die.

If wishes were embers,
each as a scar, I'd remember,
each was granted I'd pretend,
until my time to transcend,
I'd so blantantly lie,
just before I die.

Leftovers of my broken dreams,
from such a distance they seem,
like scattered pearls of fate,
and just before it's too late,
I'd toss them up in the dark sky,
just before I die.

Losing is not a curse,
gaining to lose is worse,
as I stare into the horizon,
I slowly wilt and wizen,
to collect my fragments, I try,
just before I die.

F.A.D.E

I listened to Backstreet Boys after ages today. Songs like "Show me the meaning" and "Everybody" brought back so many memories of the days when we kids were just getting acquainted with the "gorafied" side of music. We were leaving behind songs such as "Dil Dil Pakistan", "Jazba Junoon" far behind to explore other realms :P Ah, Iqraa, Faiza, Basit, Haseeb and yours truly, what a time it was! Walking backwards down the memory lane is a very frequent activity of mine. I'm always taking mental vacations back to the times when big things seemed so small and small things seemed too big to handle. But alhamdullilah, it's all good. I have no regrets, that in itself is a major blessing. I seriously miss the times when I had the time to sit down and reflect thoroughly. Now it's just as if I have to force myself to stop and my reflective abilities come up in "spurt and squirt" format. It's funny and very annoying at the same time. I just felt like ranting today, hence the blog entry.

Today's June 11. Exactly a year ago, I was bidding farewell to my school, embracing Mrs. Sindhu and Dr. Riad, consoling them that I'd keep in touch. The day my dad cried because his daughter was leaving one phase of life to enter the next. The day I had felt that I was leaving behind a heavy dose of tranquilizers to face life with all its rough edges and hues. Part of me longed to stay, while another wanted to breakaway and break the decade of monotony and "sameness". I was in a potpourri of doubt and emotion. Looking back, I often want to laugh at myself. Actually, I don't know what I want to do about myself. Sometimes, I feel that I fused myself out and that I'd eventually get whatever was destined for me anyways even if I hadn't burned my calories, flexed my neurons and sacrifised my physical and emotional immunity over things. But I guess it becomes very easy to say this once you have everything resting on the palm of your hand. Such philosophies miserably fail when you stand empty-handed in a line waiting to fed by the barren outcomes of your dreams...

June 11, 2009.
What a day?
a) Weird people in hospital premises! :P Right Sehr and Sahla? "Tropicana"
b) Glasses!
c) Dupatta fiascoes!
d) Bakris.
e) Punjabi lessons.
f) The heat.
g) Skipping lunch.

yada yada yada.


PS: FADE: For A Day so Exceptional. =]

Scattered, yet so together.

Nido Javed:
sidraaaaaaaaaaaaa ♥
are you leaving todayyyyy? have a niceee and safe flight.. awww, sidra baby is gonna start college sooon.. you are all grown up

:D haha.. Good luckkkk *hugsss*
miss you loads ♥
November 17, 2008 at 8:44pm

Sidra Chaudhry:
NIDAAAAA. i went to your ghar yesterday. =]]]]
it was soooo nice. i kinda felt like crying. my ugly picture from 9th grade is still up on your kitchen wall, i talked to aunty bubbly, aunty yasmin, aunty tasneem, met hassan, and everyone. it was just so overwhelming and yesss, i conveyed ALL your messages and your kajals as well. =]

i love you BOHOT zyada. ♥
November 6, 2008 at 3:27am

""yayyyy. you're coming. :D i have just one ticket to spare, but i'm sure some of my friends will have a few extras. =) i'm such an emotional wreck these days. *sighs* i'm experiencing soooo many deja vus, pangs of nostalgia, reminiscence attacks, guilt trips, hypersensitivity crisis... so on and so forth. you get the picture, yeah? lol. only 83 days left to graduation. =] [... it's a mixed feeling. i want to leave, but i also don't want to leave sooo many things behind. tomorrow's the nhs/njhs induction ceremony. we are all busy preparing for, taping up the cheap blue/yellow silk, the ancient logos that have been used since 1734, stupid pledges that nobody bothers understanding, the zombie music and the death march. lol. nothing has changed. today while i was cutting out nhs gate passes, i suddenly remembered the time when you were inducted in the NHS and I was inducted into the NJHS. the first ever official chapter of the NHS/NJHS. =) for some reason it felt EXACTLY the same. the same jokes, the same running around.. the only thing missing was a few familiar faces. *siiiiighs* gosh, how time flies no? i'll be attending the last induction ceremony tomorrow, then it's ma'salama [not to the society, the ceremony:P]... i visited mrs. sayed, mrs. james and mrs. olivera today after such a looooong time. they haven't changed at all. they are all the same. it reminded me of the times when i used to be in that psycho building C. *sniffles* omG luqman. i'm such a mess right now. =\ i reaalllyyyyyyy hope your net starts working AND i get to talk to najwa. you two people are awesome buddies when it comes to reminiscencing about the good old days..
good luck with everything.
may the force be with you, as mr. read says. lol."


Name: Sidra Chaudhry
Age: 18 yrs old with a mind of an 80 yr old.
Signs and Symptoms:
a) doesn't feel like studying
b) feels sick at the sight of books/study materials
c) gets nauseous when told to work
d) experiences sudden chills when reminded about college search
e) wants to doze off in class
f) wants to burn everything down.
g) dreams of waking up one day with a undergraduate and postgraduate degree under her pillow *halo*
h) faints at the mention of TWO science fair projects.
i) forgets to do her homework frequently
j) stashes her notes into places she doesn't remember later
k) wants the whole class to vanish when she snaps her fingers
l) desires to step over all the sissy juniors/sophomores/freshmen in hallways.
m) eats like there's no tomorrow to suppress the above mentioned painful symptoms.

Diagnosis: SENIORITIS.

forget pakistan. i have bigger tensions looming around my head. *siiiiighs*
97 days left to graduation! i seriously, CAN'T WAIT. =\

March 2, 2008 at 5:13pm

Walking Down the Lane, Again. [June 8, 2008]

It's just been a year,
but it seems so queer,
that things are so far,
that were once so near.

Those walks down aisles,
those tears, those smiles,
final words, parting of ways,
leaving behind the olden days.

With glowing faces,
with watery eyes,
those lop-sided smiles,
just waiting to cry.

A maroon gown,
an NHS stoll,
so many memories,
I'm left to recall.

Walking backwards,
down the lane,
experiencing it all,
all over again.

A tossed cap,
a fluttering tassle,
when what to wear to grad,
was the biggest hassle.

The faces run through my mind,
shining, radiating with light,
each one a deep memory,
holding onto me so tight.

Another eight, another June,
same old winds, but different monsoons,
flying like old parchments,
shards of memories line pavements.

And as I walk with my head high,
onto my face each memory collides,
the radiant past burns my insides,
for my heart longs to cry,
on the same set of shoulders,
it yearns for the days so older.

The same song plays in my ears,
it glides with every sliding tear,
"breakaway" it whispers to me,
it fills me with warmth, with glee.

I open old boxes so full,
pouring out my treasures,
deeper into emo seas they pull,
depths that nobody can ever measure.

A shirt, a note, a card,
a wilting rose, a flower so dead,
everything dances around in my head,
piercing like old shards,
wounding me with such grace,
things I could just never replace.

with every rustle of the wind,
through my tangled, messy hair,
there comes a new glow,
that grows when shared.

As I sit here after a year,
with blank eyes, so devoid of tears,
a smile creeps onto my lips,
as the keys drum under my fingertips,
I'm looking at old snaps,
of those blood-red gowns and flying caps,
I'm recalling the times when,
the seventy of us marched out,
holding very high our heads and chins.

This is just to tell each one of you,
that no matter what each of us do,
a part of us always is and always will,
will be so empty, only to be filled,
by those days we spent together,
by those laughters and smiles,
by those tears and those frowns,
by those fiery ups and downs,
whenever we look over our backs,
we'll see the same old tracks,
calling out to us, to come back.


This is for the class of 2008.

Happy Graduation Anniversary! :)

Walking Backwards.

"my graduation's inshallah on june 8. it's going to be really nice. inshallah. you know what? each person can invite up to 5 guests. i always wanted nana abu and nani ami to attend. and ami even talked to nana abu about it before he died. *sighs* time and tide wait for none. this year has been one of the very critical years of my 18 years of life. i'm sure there are many more to come.. i'm just trying to deal with things, one thing at a time. i try to busy myself to avoid all negative thoughts. i sometimes miss the old me.. when i was more responsible, more open, more sensible.. now, i have turned into a couch potato looking for trouble. i can't wait to graduate! i want to come to pakistan and do whatever possible to relieve this stress in me. i want to start with life afresh. i want to get out of the same monotonous life that i have lived in the last 10 years in the same school. i will miss school, but i will always cherish it in my heart too. ..... i know life's full of crap, difficult people, unfair decisions, unexpected turns, horrible twists, but life's life. we can't just swing it away and live like complete robots."

[May 8, 2008]

Oh yeah, yesterday I craved Abu Nawas so much, I think because I was watching too much of NAWAZ sharif :P I watched so much of geo news yesterday, I missed the times when dad and I used camp in the lounge in front of our mahaan TV. The judges got restored, *ballay ballay, harripa*.. But anyways, some issue or the other always surfaces. You know because of the long march, they jammed all the cellular networks. It was funny, reminded me of "espionage acts" we studied in American History. I couldn't sms a single friend. When you get here, get yourself ufone, it's better than warid, warid sucks. I dont want to change my number, that's why I'm still sticking to it. Anyways, I'm going to go now.

Byebye fattums.
pakoray and samosay from pakistan.

[March 16, 2009]

sidraaaaaaaaaaaaaa
*i miss uuuuuuuuuuu
*me in saudi
Najwa
[June 6, 2009]


"it's terrible sitting here and listening to different people telling me different things about pakistan. someone told me it's really nice, you start enjoying..someone else told me to be careful while choosing friends. oh ooona, i was sitting and thinking about my future. lol. i don't know which college i'm going into and what kind of people i will meet there.. for 10 years i have been used to seeing you guys and i didn't have to bother myself with reaching up to new people and befriending them and i will have to start doing that this year. sucks major. =[ but i'm trying to be positive. it would be so nice if you and i would study in islamabad, we will keep in touch and share our dukh bhari kahaniyan with each other."

[July 2, 2008]


ooona, i just watched hibah's bday video and i miss you so much now. =[
i miss school. i miss english. i miss calculus. i miss recess. i miss everything. =[

[July 29, 2008]

ana queesa. ana ma hibak al facebook chath katheer! [because it's so gay for some reason =P] ana miss kulu bachis katheerrrrrr! ♥ ana fee roh saudi soon. ana 'b'lanning [planning] to visit madrasa. i will miss you guys SO much when i go to saudiiii. seriously. =[ koi hoga hee nahi wahan. everything in school will have a memory attached to it. =\

ps- forgive my broken arabic. paki has been made me VERY paki. lol. i need to review mrs. madani's notes. haha, i still have them by the way. =P AND i love the pic you put up pf us. :) brought back a lot of memories. full-fledged yaado'n ki baraat material. =P lol.

take care!
ma'salama!

[October 14, 2008]

hibah darrrrrling, stuff's good, alhamdullilah.
just a nasty pang of depression due to lack of mental stimulation and exersion =P but nothing that a lil bit of company can't fix. =] i'm going to lahore on the 23rd insh'Allah, really excited, yet a lil apprehensive about things like "college". sighs. you need to tell me how london's treating my hibah. okay? take care haan. =]

[July 9, 2008]


"Habibity.... your message made me very happy and I really wonder how you still remember my birthday!!! It is very sweet of you.Sidra... take care of yourself, study well (I'm sure you do), and keep in touch. It is very pleasant to me to know about you.

May God bless you my sweet heart!

I love you sooooo much...

Dr. Riad "

[January 25, 2009]

"Hi Sidra,

Very happy to hear from u. Here all's fine and we are ready for another year. Everything remains same for us but we do miss some precious students like u."

[Aug 28, 2008]

June5:June6:June7

June 5: My last exams as a high schooler. Human Biology & Political Science.
Desi BBQ.

June 6: My first graduation practice, when almost everyone forgot to bring their IDs for entrance into Dhahran.

June 7: My second graduation practice, when we treated ourselves at Joffrey's.

It's been a year. Just memories. Scribbled down on walls. Jotted down in diaries. Signed onto yearbooks.

That's it. That's all.

Just a Moment. [*]

It just takes a moment,
to turn from candle to flame,
to burn yourself to dust,
just to eradicate the blame.

The drops of broken wax,
the melting souls with it,
leaving behind no tracks,
letting things go bit by bit.

From flickering flames,
to dirty, burnt ashes,
amidst broken promises,
amidst guilt-laden flashes.

An odyssey that never ends,
an epic betraying all trends,
even waters from the seas,
or the dew from the trees,
the tears from the eyes,
or the deepest painful cries,
I watch them fail one by one,
beaten, conquered, defeated,
finished, dead, depleted.

I Met You Here.

I met you here,
under the skies so clear,
when the rains fell,
and I could tell,
if you were around,
just by listening to sounds,
of your shoes thudding on mud,
the marshy grounds,
the swampy lakes,
the tales of fairies,
and other such fakes,
when they seemed so true,
as they dropped from your lips,
how butterflies seemed to,
never leave your fingertips,
when the times would freeze,
in the cold, warm breeze,
when satin ribbons would flutter,
like colorful birds' wings,
when every little twig,
just seemed to sing,
as the sun would set,
as the skies would darken,
your eyes would shine,
they'd light and sparkle,
I'd feel their glow,
on my cheeks,
how they'd keep me,
from falling weak...

*

And now I stare,
at the same wooden seat,
where we'd sit,
rejoice and meet,
everything's unchanged,
the sun's still setting,
the birds still chirping,
the ribbons still fluttering,
the golden eyes,
the fairy tales,
the talks of tunes,
the whispers of the gale,
old friends that I long,
to sing the same old song,
that chimed through branches,
pulled me from the trenches,
out into the sunshine,
to feel the the sun on my skin,
to cleanse me from within,
I long, I yearn, I crave,
to carefully save,
the so tangible flavors,
of love, hate, anguish,
just before they extinguish,
into the quagmire of wilderness...

For Every Tear.

In every tear of my eye,
deep tales in them lie,
of beautiful scars,
of whimsical lashes,
of burnt sunflowers,
of roses and ashes,
for every tear of my eye,
just never seems to dry,
like satin ribbons in breeze,
they flow, they dance, they fly.

Flicker [*]

A small flicker,
burning blues,
the hopeful hue,
my eyes locked,
watching, waiting,
for you to light up,
bring some hope,
some flavor,
just a hint of news,
that cold, cold blue,
that old hopeless hue,
just how I stare,
eyes fixed in gaze,
waiting and watching,
tossing and turning,
from under pillows,
from locked drawers,
still, deep inside,
I'm waiting,
still waiting,
though I hate,
there's no escape,
for the hopeful hue,
the ominous blue,
keeps me watching,
keeps me waiting.

*

The rain fell,
still I waited,
amidst blizzards,
still I stood,
under blazing suns,
I laid myself out,
on the burning sands,
still I stared,
out into the distance,
across the hazy horizons,
over the burnt meadows,
the milky skies,
the charcoal moons,
further and further,
till my eyes blinded,
by those things,
commonly called tears,
just were about to give in,
when a voice came from within,
asking me, begging me,
to stand my ground.

Rascal Flatts: A Discovery.

Discovery. That's what it feels like.


After listening to these songs, I actually felt like they were so close to the heart. Like for real. Don't know why I wrote this entry, but I really felt like. Just felt like sharing my favorite parts from each song.

I'm Moving On

At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone

What Hurts the Most

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok
But that’s not what gets me

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do

These days.

Yeah, life throws you CURVES,
But you learn to swerve,
Me, I swung and I missed,
And the next thing ya know, I'm reminiscing...
Dreaming old dreams, wishing old wishes,
Like you would be back again.


God Bless the Broken Road.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

[Chorus:]

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

[Chorus]

Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.

Okay, the ENTIRE song! :)


Stand.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you Stand, Then you stand
Life's like a novel
With the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon
With only one way down
Take what you're given before its gone
Start holding on, keep holding on

Every time you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place

My Broken Strings.

The golden threads,
the words unsaid,
the longing sighs,
the lows and highs,
the strong tugs,
the dainty shoves,
the lucky ravens,
the ominous doves,
as your fingers,
gently tug,
my life along,
slowly chugs,
like a lost train,
on a broken track,
I struggle to get,
everything back,
but it's hard to see,
it's hard to flee,
from the broken dreams,
and the bloody screams,
of the past that was,
of the broken glass,
that pierces me,
daily so deeply.

*

Let us hide,
under these bright moons,
those shadows that bloom,
amidst the linens of gloom.
Throw those blades of grass,
so sleek, so sharp,
like the strings of harps,
let us lose ourselves,
to this green,
to this black,
of the ground,
of the sky,
of all that's chaining us,
forbidding us to fly.

Three Thousand Nights.

Three thousand nights,
with the days in between,
the sunsets, the sun rise,
the waves of pain,
the relentless tides,
of time, of longing,
of the loss of sense,
of the loss of belonging.

It's Just Day One. [*]

With a heavy heart,
with a reluctant sigh,
I just have to do this,
although I immensely miss,
I remind myself,
it's just day one.

Pretending isn't easy,
but that's what's left,
to show that it's okay,
that I've sent you away,
but only I know how it is,
falling into an abyss,
and although I immensely miss,
I remind myself,
it's just day one.

*

I love watching you,
walk away from me,
quickly at first,
as if to test.
if I'd stop you,
if I'd call out,
in your mind,
there lingers a doubt.
As usual, you don't show,
but somehow I know,
you too are waiting,
as we are separating,
for me to call out,
funny how I want,
you to do the same,
turn back and glance,
call out my name,
but we both know too,
both me and you,
don't mind waiting.

*

You have no idea,
you have no clue,
what you do to me,
is so oblivious to you.
To you, a smile is just a smile,
to me, it differentiates,
between an inch and mile.
The more you like to hide,
the more I tend to seek,
little do you know,
you make me so weak.

Very Small Wonders.

The weather's so amazing. Rain, thunder, strong cool winds, and more rain. The only ugly thing's the test I have tomorrow. I woke up at 12 today after such a long, long time. It felt very weird. Well, I had slept at 4 AM, so that explained the late start of the day. After wasting a lot of time, I finally forced myself to review anatomy. I guess God rewarded me with the awesome weather later. It started off with just a very gloomy sky, lots of clouds and then I heard my mom complain about how the laundry would all go wet under the rain. At first I just watched the drops cautiously from my window. Then I decided to open the door to the verandah, just to stand there and listen to the rain slap against the tiled floor. Then I decided to pull of the laundry off my balcony, just the excuse I needed to get out. I ran out, yanked the bed linens, the freshly hung clothes off the line, taking my own sweet time. I was in no hurry to get back in. But eventually I had to. But seriously, what an experience it was. I just wanted to stand in the middle of the rain, let it do its work. Wash off every bit of stupidity and frustrations off me. I wanted to experience getting wet to the very core of my being. I wanted to do the bhangra on my terrace. lol. This kind of weather NEVER made me want to study. I felt like calling up a friend, or no, I felt like eating chocolate cake. I didn't know what I really wanted to do, but I was just so overwhelmed by the sudden rain. I thanked the Lord that I wasn't expecting any guests today. Yesterday was crazy, but still fun. My second grader and sixth grader cousins came over to visit their Sidra apa. What an evening it was. They wanted to play "beauty salon" and "doctor, doctor" with me. First they used my limited make up stock to make me look like a "I don't know what". Minahil thought that by drawing three dots at the ends of my eyes, I'd look very "pyaari". According to Amina, I should leave my hair loose in the icky summer heat because I looked better that way. Then they both fought over who'd put lipgloss on me. So finally I had to intervene to sort the feud amicably. Amina would put it on my upper lip and Minahil would do my lower lip. Then after this "cake-up" session was over, Minahil spotted my mom's stethoscope and declared that she wanted to play "doctor". I was made the sick patient, while Amina and Minahil diagnosed me with a disease that nobody had the cure to except them. I was ordered to drink milk three times a day with panadol and 5 strepsils after every meal. lol. As we were busy playing doctor, Rida my 3 year old cousin and also Amina's little sister started crying because we weren't letting her fool around with the stethoscope. I was always very bad with calming kids down. I tried to pacify her, but then just gave up. She continued whining and out of utmost frustration I told her that my anatomy instructors in college were looking for crybabies to inject them with this new drug, which tickled them so much that they kept laughing for no reason. Thank God, she believed me. lol. I felt evil, but anything to get a kid from crying. Anyways, I'm just going to shut up. I have nothing more to add, plus it's getting late and I have a test tomorrow and I'm a little nervous. Insh'Allah, it should go well.=)

Trapped in a Raindrop [*]

Trapped in a rain drop,
the solitude of transparency,
staring out into the sky,
waiting for the clouds,
to let me free to fall,
to let me break into pieces,
so many that I wouldn't recall.
Pushing against my walls,
feeling them push back at me,
as I suspend from the clouds,
clouds of pain, of agony.
I hear the thunder rumble,
brace myself to crumble,
into the pavement below,
to meet my eternal destiny,
to put an end to this misery.

Life Takes [*]

Life takes,
forgets to give back,
like a greedy child,
bags all the good candy,
from a broken pinata,
it leaves me behind,
to count the colorful wrappers,
burgundy, amber, magenta,
caramel, toffee, hazelnut,
little fingers scraping off,
the remnants of candy,
trying, struggling so hard,
to remind life, not to forget,
to give me my part,
my share of good,
I try to remind life,
of what it should,
with melting remains,
of those candy store treats,
melt my childish dreams,
amidst lollies and ice creams.

A Thousand Suns. [*]

The thousand suns of my eyes,
the countless smiles on my lips,
I watch them drown,
in front of my face,
silently, calmly,
each dying out with grace.
With outstretched arms,
not to embrace,
just to give away,
more and more of myself,
to these winds I call life,
to these battles I call life,
to these little wounds I call life,
take more and more away from me,
even the remnants are too much,
this life has left me such,
the gusts of storms menace me,
to run away into the realms,
little do they know,
I just follow the lines on my palms.

Those Dreams in My Dupatta.

On the silken edge,
a very tight knot,
holds my dreams,
or at least it tries.
Intricate stitches,
like the lines on my hands,
stand guard to them,
before they betray me,
sneak out of the knot,
while I sleep in my cot.
Firmly gripping the fabric,
in a tightly clenched fist,
I try to calm myself,
at least my dreams still exist.
Safe from the lashes,
from the whips, from the stones,
within the tight knot of my dupatta,
they have safely grown..
The wildest of winds,
the torrential monsoons,
the sun's blazing rays,
not even the fiery moons,
could waver my dreams away,
in spite of the undulating cloth,
even after eons,
when I pass on my dupatta,
half eaten and teethered,
by time and by moths,
the delicate shoulders,
that would now bear the weight,
of my dreams, so forlorn,
so loyally tied within the knot,
even today, as tiny hands tug,
pulling it, yanking it,
off my shoulders onto my feet,
those tiny shards of hope,
don't let me embrace defeat.
Like a burning scar on my skin,
it reminds me of my sins.
My mistakes, my errors,
my fears and my terrors,
surprisingly this brings calm,
a quiet front after a storm..
I slap it back over my shoulder,
the knot, I know is still there,
as it slaps against my thigh,
from within me comes a sigh,
for my dreams assure me,
that'll never betray me,
never will they die.

"Lost Aroma!"

The same steaming mug of coffee,
with whirls of steam dancing,
the aroma mixing into the air,
the froth crowning it on top.
With my gaze, I try my best,
but it's so hard to separate,
you from the swirls of steam,
dissipating into nothing,
but leaving me behind to wait.
Tracing the brim with my finger,
one circle after another,
and just the swirls of steam,
rising and disappearing before me.
Next to the window where the cup rests,
I lift my heavy gaze now and then,
waiting for you to come, wondering when,
tracing the swirls tires me,
following them with my eyes,
deeply breathing them in,
realizing just how long it's been.
Just as the mist collects on glass,
a silhouette appears, it's you alas!
As I run to the door,
I just tend to ignore,
the cup resting on the edge,
which now lay on the floor,
broken, like a forlorn pledge.
With a broken spirit, I just stare,
the coffee flowing at my feet,
the swirls are long gone,
lost like a sudden heart beat,
just the coffee, flowing slowly.








Ps: A special thank you to Sami Bhai for suggesting the title! :)

*

When the pain got too much,
I just closed my eyes,
let it, just let it,
scoop my insides out,
dance around in my blood,
as much as it could.
When I lifted my lashes,
the pain stared at me,
a glow piercing my eyes,
challenging me yet again,
tying me with invisible chains.

*

I don't want you,
not even an inch of you,
I want to go far away,
just to see what I mean to you.
For every time you ask,
how are you?
I want to say fine,
turn my back towards you,
wait for you to call out,
turn me around,
ask me to tell the truth,
I want to look into your eyes,
my eyes brimming with tears,
and wish that I could tell you.
But no, lets let silence prevail,
let it act as a see through veil,
just between me and you.

The *'s.

Sometimes I just break into an emotion. Actually no. An emotion breaks into me. Thwack, a feeling hits me with high speed between my eyes. The *'s are supposed to be random bits and pieces of poetry that I write totally based on my status quo, hence they have no names. They are just *'s.

I Won't Say.

I won't say a word,
I will just watch you,
restlessly toss and turn,
although it hurts me,
I won't say a word.
For there's nothing,
nothing that will show,
the real me, to you,
so silence is golden,
although it pierces me,
I won't say a word.
My eyes will dry,
my soul will die,
but my heart'll still be,
although it burdens me,
I won't say a word.
Your smiles, laughter,
your tears of gratitude,
my cries, screams,
my tears of solitude,
although it kills me,
I won't say a word.
What are words so empty?
Those smiles so hollow?
Tears are real,
for the moisture I can feel,
their pathway I can trace,
as they descend down my face.
On some rainy day,
although tears nobody can see,
I won't say a word.
When the flowers will fray,
the petals will wilt,
when incense sticks burn,
along with my skin,
although it will burn me,
I won't say a word.

Life,

Golden storms,
sweet poisons,
a pain too pleasant,
a dagger shaped crescent,
a cloud of pain,
a rain of doubt,
this is what my life is all about.
Walking along forbidden paths,
even shadows abandoning me,
through thick and through thin,
there's nothing within,
a long-dead heart,
an ominous start,
of my life this is a part.
Through the silken trenches,
through the rowdy winds,
as the pebbles pelt me,
abrade my skin,
I meekly smile,
to tell myself,
to disarm and break apart,
since oh life, this is just the start.

A Picture on the Wall.

From a picture on the wall,
I stare out at you,
I see you sit in the same chair,
a streak of white in your hair,
with the same rose in your hand.
As you caress the petals with your tips,
a gentle gasp escapes through my lips,
for I am taken to the times when we were,
when it was okay to love, alright to err.
The thorns on the stalk, so beguile
how they always stole my smiles,
so triumphant, so content,
these thorns that stayed, only I went.
You trace the stem all the way down,
your content face, not even a frown,
and I want to jump out of this frame,
how I wish I could call out your name.
I wish I could run back to you,
tell you how fast this time had flew.
But that rose just stood where I stood,
those thorns became your friends,
suddenly I was surrounded by many dead ends,
I was just a soul, so devoid of a body,
the rose had petals, thorns so spiney,
like the crimson in the petals,
the coffee brewing in the kettle,
my blood boiling in my frozen heart,
how you managed to break me apart,
even so I have no life,
you still managed to win this strife.
Like a blunt knife trying to kill,
I was in a battle with my will,
even marble-tiled floors remember my steps,
the weight of my feet they still felt.
Unlike you, who nipped me in the bud,
like the same ugly rose,grotesque, so red.

On My Way...

What a Saturday morning. Seriously. My day started off with receiving two smses from my childhood friends, both of them from Saudi. One who knew me from diapers till dupattas, Iqraa. The other who knew me from my elementary school fiascoes till now. Even though I was pretty much half asleep, I smiled to myself. These were the little things that could make you feel triumphant about being "wanted", being "missed", being "remembered", being "important". Sometimes that's all you need to feel better and recharge yourself for yet another day of your highly erratic life. It seems just like yesterday when we got over with LMS and now we have another module coming up, the Cardiovascular System this time, just a week's time left. This year FLEW. April's almost ending, come May, June and then tadaaa, July's here and I head back home, Saudi that is. I will miss Islamabad, lol. Although I'm going for just 3 weeks, it's going to be hard leaving my college friends behind for a while. I will miss people making fun of everything I say and do. Lol. Usman's inside jokes, Sahla's hopelessness about me, Emmal's radical feminism, Sehr's happy hour, Hassan's chips and Rajeel's higly interesting stories. And last but not the least, some loser's highly inane jokes about me. You know you who are and also how much I hate you. Anyways, so I'm supposed to do a lot today. Study, study, study, then probably sort through my stuff and then get in touch with a few people, maybe. I rejoined Facebook. I think it was hard to stay away from gooey drama. But I guess I shouldn't "let my enemies drown me" and try becoming thick-skinned. The other day I was going through my 8th grade autograph diary and I came across such bizarre autographs. lol. All my friends advising me to "grow up" and become less of a nerd. I haven't changed maybe, because I get the same remarks even now. But I don't feel bad, I'm glad I didn't change that much. Changing in front of your eyes is very scary. Initially it starts off with just a tinge of change here and there, you just smile at it with confusion and overlook it. Then a vicious cycle starts off. One thing changes, another, then yet another. A string of changes encircles you, tightening its grip around you so strongly. It chains you to yourself, you can't even break away or even try to. You do things you never thought you'd do, you want to do things that seemed so off the hook to you in the past and all you want to do is to close your eyes as you experience the jolts of change shaking your wits out of you. It's like trying to contain sand in your fist. No matter how hard you try, the sand seeps out through your fingers. It falls down to accompany the other particles of sand to become just another grain in the sand. The pride of being a high and mighty dune just fades away with the strong storms that ransack the desert.

Listen

Listen closely,
to my tears as they flow,
down my cheeks, so slow,
before dying at my lips below.
Listen for they die to speak,
to you, to me, to us,
to profess and to confess.
Did you hear that?
A slow cracking sound?
Like something broke, so profound.
I think 'twas something within me,
Broken, detached, finally so free.
A whimsical tune,
from the deepest chamber,
a feeling of piercing warmth,
like walking on embers.
Listen again carefully,
there's a muffled sob,
I think it's me again,
courage I fail to feign.
Listen again,
for I'm deaf to my own screams,
I'm just trapped in an ugly dream,
hear me out as I cry in solitude,
all my wounds so naked, so nude.
Listen now,
to my rising and falling breath,
as if weakly calling out to death,
to hold my hands and let me free,
to take me away, help me flee.
Rest your head on the marble,
listen to the butterflies mutter,
as around my tombstone they flutter,
and listen for one last time,
your name as my cold lips utter it over and over,
which even the heaviest soils fails to cover.
As I smile from beneath,
I listen too,
to your tears this time,
because it's your turn now,
to listen, just to listen.

Nameless.

I want you to hear,
what I don't say,
I want to be with you,
as night turns into day,
I just want to seal my lips,
place on them my finger tips,
watch you try to decipher,
the secrets that they cover,
I sometimes want to be blind,
to see the world through your eyes,
to witness and finally realize,
that ugliness is all about lies,
I search you through the darkness,
I search for you in the light,
each word of yours, you say,
lingers with me every night.
I keep telling myself again,
it's not love, it's merely vain,
but it's the words, the smiles,
that pull me closer, they beguile,
when I come too close, I burn,
for it was just an illusion, I learn.
But still sometimes when rains fall,
each droplet utters your name,
carves it into my heart the same,
letting go of you is not hard,
but seeing you let go of me,
breaks me into pieces so small,
nobody would be able to gather me at all.
So if you plan to break me,
please do let me know,
so that I fragment myself for you,
and become from someone you know,
into someone you once knew.

Where I Stood.

I'm so in love with this song. I remember Maira telling me to youtube it one fine Friday evening, when I was feeling very blue and low. Funny how sometimes listening to songs that echo your thoughts and feelings makes you feel better instead of sinking you deeper into wells of misery. This song pushed and pulled me into a whirlpool of such weird emotions. I don't know. I felt like my mind was spinning in a washing machine. It was so true, but I didn't want to see a song reflecting my feelings. I didn't want them to be so public. But I guess, everyone feels this way at one point in time...Especially the first stanza. Okay, Sidra, shut up and study your physiology lessons for tomorrow.

Where I Stood

I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none

There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside

'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do

'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood

Happy Birthday Nida! <3

There's this girl I know,
Nido's what is her name,
ever since I met her in grade three,
I have never been the same.

The craziest times,
the craziest days,
with her by my side,
there was limitless craze.

Although poles apart we are,
still we're so close, never far,
I miss you with all my heart,
of my life you're a vital part.

Today is a special day,
for it's your birthday,
although we can't cut cakes,
hold surprise parties like in the past,
which reminds me that time has passed so fast!

Even when you're a 100 years old,
a granny with annoying grandkids,
I will be there with you,
I'll still very much be your Sid.

I wish I was there by your side,
to blow the candles with you,
to plaster your face with cake,
all your cool birthday gifts I'd take.

Then when the party would be over,
we'd sit on the couch and chatter,
about the good old days when,
tears didn't exist, just smiles so golden.

Snapping back into the present,
I'm glad that life with you I spent,
my childhood full of so much fun,
a friend like you, there was none.

When I learnt what a friend was,
you accepted me with all my flaws,
you defined what a sister is to me,
my closest friend were thee.

I wish you the best birthday ever,
full of happiness and joy forever,
may God shower you with love and grace,
so much so that it radiates from your face!

May this day be a beginning to a new start,
may pain never ever find way to your heart,
may you smile like there's no gloom,
in your life may sorrow never find room.

Here's wishing you a very happy birthday,
I love you so much, I don't even have to say!

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYYY!

Crumbling.

Once upon a time there lived a girl who thought she could conquer the whole world and sleep peacefully at night after making each and every person smile on the face of this earth. She thought she was some bigshot healer, the ultimate source of pride for her parents, an inspiration for her friends and peers, a big teachers' pet, a girl with an iconic academic and social status back in her high school and then one day she fell. She fell so badly that even she didn't know what was up with her. She just knew that she was whizzing through the air, hurtling and back-flipping into an abysmal pit of time and space. Now she just stared at herself in the mirror and heard tiny cracks in the back of her mind as she stared back at an individual so foreign to her. She tried to come up with excuses and justifications for her change, but she found none. People told her that she was just growing up, but she knew better. She was falling into a trap, a laid out conspiracy. She was jinxed. She had been caught by the evil eye. She had so many questions in her mind, but with no answers. She cried, but she never knew the reason behind her tears. The girl, who once thought that her connection with God was so strong that she'd be able to whiz through thick and thin without a single obstacle, was now crumbling into pieces. One, two, three, four, five...million, billion, trillion...gazillion..She lost count gradually. At that point, she felt like a big joke. A big retard, who was a source of pure entertainment to those around her. She wanted to close her eyes and open them just to see that everything and everyone was normal. She often asked God and then herself about what was wrong. But she could never put a finger to her problem. She'd try talking it off with her friends, but then she'd feel like the epicenter of a disaster. She just wanted to break away. The same girl who wanted to befriend everyone, who wanted to connect to people at a special level beyond normal myopic human scope, suddenly wanted to build very high walls around herself. She often sat down to think what was the reason that she was disintegrating so badly? Was it a person? An event? A feeling? An experience? What was it exactly? To her it seemed to be everything and yet nothing. She tried asking God. But God wanted her to find out on her own, I guess. As she made her way through the gooey gel of time, she tried to keep herself from stumbling, from falling and breaking into infinitesimal pieces in front of an audience. She missed herself immensely. Her inconquerable soul, her unerasable smile, her naive self. She wanted to run, but she didn't know where to. So she decided to pack her broken self up in a bandage of self-pity and pretend to be very strong and so very brave and prayed with all might that may God help her maintain her modesty in the strong winds of change that she was being harassed by. As she types, she still prays, hopes and wishes that if only she could...

Crack.

The weather's so amazing! It's windy and it's raining! It's so so cool. :) I have college tomorrow and I'm so dead and beat, but I still don't feel like sleeping. I wanted to sleep to the sound of rain falling outside my window, but it just stopped. sighs. Today was such a surreal day, I had three SGDs, which I couldn't study for at all. I was out at a family dinner yesternite and by the time I came back I was too tired to do anything, however I did try to jab at embryology. Anywaysss, today was just weird- came to know things that would NEVER cross my mind under normal circumstances. But anyways, I am going to try to ignore it. Blah, blah, blah. I need to go sleep.

Dancing with Pain.

I was standing in a circle of light,

the stars shining above my head,
just when I thought I was alone,
pain came and stood by me instead.

It took my hand and pulled me close,
it made me swirl around on my toes,
when I stopped reeling around,
it lifted me up above the ground.

Before finally parting of ways,
it held me in a tight embrace,
I could actually feel it pulsating,
through my veins, 'twas radiating.

It finally let go of my cold hand,
left me in my circle, alone to stand,
as I watched it rising up to the sky,
with tears in my eyes, I kissed it goodbye.

Those Chips in Me.

As I am sitting here on a Saturday morning, munching on Chips Ohoy early in the morning, I am smiling to myself for a reason so unknown. Maybe sometimes you smile because you don't know what else to do about what you're being subjected to. Crying seems to be to cliche. Plus why overburden your lacrimal glands when you know that your tears won't even dampen the cause of the problem to the least bit. So we started off with the cardiovascular system in college. The physiology part is so freaking extensive, but insh'Allah, I plan to ace this module. It's funny that I'm studying the human heart, something that nobody has fully understood to-date. They say the heart has four chambers, I beg to differ. It has a chamber within a chamber, each chamber with several twists and turns, a maze within a maze, and so many diversions. If the heart were such a simple thing, more than half of this world's problems would cease to exist. But then again, this is just what I think. I have been thinking a lot these days. Funny how sometimes you take "mental vacations" to such demented areas of life that you feel so very detached from your past, presence and future. Like the chocolate chips sprinkled across dough in making chocolate chip cookies, you feel like your pieces are dispersed across the seven seas, each fragment resting on embers in a different land. *snap, snap, snap* Sidra, get yourself back. You're drifting off a little too much these days. Get a grip on yourself, what are you doing to yourself? Why are you letting it affect you? Haha, these are things that I have to keep telling myself. See, I told you, growing up wasn't just a physical process- it wasn't limited to the obliteration of your epiphyseal growth plate in your bones or the onset of hormone secretion. There was a lot to it. Coming from Saudi to now Pakistan, I feel like I have just come out of an egg shell with one of my legs still very much caught in the gooey yolk and the pieces of the broken shell clinging to my hair. Maybe I'm going through a 'culture shock' or maybe I'm just being irrational by choice or maybe I'm just expecting too much light out of fireflies. I am doing things that I used to run away from. I am feeling something that I thought was just so low and cheap and "so-not-Sidra Chaudhry-type". From a super-focused-Paki woman, I'm turning into just another girl, who goes weak in the knees at the sight of a shooting star, who wants to wear the stars as a tiara, who goes goo-goo eyed at the mere thought of honey, flowers and butterflies. What's happening to me? Lol. Gah, so random. According to a friend, I've become bipolar. But who isn't bipolar? :P Everyone fluctuates through highs and lows, but maybe my frequency's a little fishy. Sighs. I'm being flipped like a paratha on a hot skillet.


Is this what you call pain?
If yes, then I want to ask you,
why it chose just me?
Did it fail to see you?
Or did you divert it to me?
The twinkle in your eyes,
sparkles at my cries.
The smile on your lips,
my dainty wings it clips.
But just to make you happy,
I'm ready to befriend misery.

Spew Outs.

I want it to stop. But I am so frikking helpless. Like little explosions in my mind, really heavy, throbbing pains somewhere deep in my head. I hate this, I'm hating it with all my might, with all my heart. It's that annoying. If this is called 'growing up', I'm sorry I don't think I want to go through it. I just want to close my eyes and open them only to see everything in its proper place. God please, PLEASE pull me through. I'm going nuts.

Just Another Girl.

I am just another girl,
letting this love swirl,
every little of my curls,
setting my eyes on fire,
burning in deep desire,
to dance in the breeze,
to write our name on all oak trees,
batting my eyelids at every memory,
of whatever was between you and me,
I sleep with a new dream every night,
smiling in my sleep in the moonlight,
tossing my locks out of my way,
calling out butterflies to play,
just another game of hide and seek,
letting the dew settle on my cheek,
with every smile, my eyes twinkle,
on my forehead there isn't a wrinkle,
but sometimes when gloom sets in,
there's a flood that flows from within,
out of my eyes onto my cheeks,
those tears make me so weak,
resting on the dead petals below,
dispersing me like a dandelion to blow.
In my basket of broken dreams,
I sit to count those endless screams,
but then your mere illusion,
is enough of a delusion,
that you will always be there,
that you will always care,
I want you to become the flower,
that crowns my long flowing hair,
become a cluster of rain drops,
falling mercilessly from the air,
to drench me in your affection,
to leave me close to perfection.
I am just another girl for you,
just another butterfly with no clue,
where to go and where to rest,
I'm an epileptic butterfly in a quest.

Dear God.

Dear God,

I have so much to say,
don't know where to start,
I just know that inside,
I'm slowly crumbling apart,
I miss the soul I had,
I miss the old me,
now it just seems that,
I'm a soul trapped in a body.
Gone are the days when I,
used to smile and cry,
now everything's of stone,
it's just me feeling all alone
when I look over my shoulder,
all I see are remains,
of the once sought-after pleasures,
of the very memorable pains.
I try to hold myself up,
drain my tears into a cup,
struggle to breath free,
from these dungeons of misery,
my voice is now so foreign,
this breath such a burden,
I often hear myself speak,
feeling so barren, so very bleak,
my own shadow seems to be,
now so very weary of me,
some days I want to see,
if maybe death could now help me,
sometimes it's not a person,
it's a feeling that commits arson,
it sets your life on fire,
burns you in your desires,
the flames smother my eyes,
they show me deeply-rooted lies,
and I finally realize,
I have lost You in this maze,
that I am blinded in this haze,
I miss crying out loud to You,
to pull me through and through,
in this quagmire of color and hue,
where I'm lost without a clue.
The comforts that I got,
when I put my head to floor,
how after every prayer,
I wanted to ask You for more.
Oh God, I've become an old wall,
broken and just so fragile,
I want You to fix me back,
return me all my smiles.

Peltings.

The rain taps on my window,
asking me about you,

I stay quiet,
my lips pursed tightly,
my hands clasped in my lap,
trying to keep a straight face,
keeping those tears inside,
so hard it was,
but I had to pull through,
the rain kept pouring,
the pain radiating,
I couldn't let my head sink low...
I had to hold this weight up,
keep myself from sinking,
into this quagmire,
so wrongly called love.

Rigor Mortis

Odyssey.

Sweet Nothings.

In love? Yes, no, maybe.
In doubt? Yes, could be.
I feel like flying,
lifting off the ground,
but I'm so scared,
what if I get another wound?
Will I live to take another blow?
Will I still be able to love you?
Those sweet nothings,
those sheepish smiles,
staring at each other over miles,
those never-ending mazes,
those mind games so endless,
it's like voluntarily drowning,
in marshes so bottomless.
I try to shake myself to reality,
but gone in me is the sanity,
that I once took pride in,
there's a new me within,
an old cover, just new pages,
gently flipping apart in the breeze,
that's how you make me feel.

I Die Daily.

Dying isn't an option,
it's a lifestyle now,
don't ask me why,
I really don't know how,
but it just seems to me,
that dying is my decree,
every new day another chance,
to embrace death in dance,
souls dancing in flames,
flesh left only in name,
they call me a living soul,
but that is not what you call,
an empty, spiritless being,
who is so used to seeing,
herself dying daily, bit by bit.