Defined by Words

“There’s a fear of mine, of running out of words. Are our vocabularies so limited that this is even possible? Our feelings condensed in four letter monosyllables like it’s so easy. I say, if it’s a legitimate concern, let us vow not to run out of words at all. We’ll discover new ones nobody’s heard of, just for us, or make up our own so nobody realises that when we say “plikfana” we’re saying “my heart is yours”.

And for now we’re bound by language, but what about later? If I could transcribe entire tongues on your skin who’s to say we’d ever run out of words at all? All the ink would be my lips and fingertips, and the words would be goosebumps left behind, like alien Braille.

Hell, we could turn the words into music notes. Let the rhythms speak to us instead, bobbing little symbols on a vibrating throat giving away more secrets than we meant to give. All of that could be in the air, conducted by a skillful wrist until all the songs are about us in some way or another.

I’ll say “I love you” until it’s nothing but a half-asleep slur, but I’ll keep finding other ways to say it until we won’t need words at all. Books will fill with our vocabulary and in the future scholars will look back on our letters with awe and never know that all those symbols were measured heartbeats on paper.”



“Today, I watched a movie and tried to push away the thought of you, tried not to imagine us on the screen acting out each scene as I asked you to stay and you answered by walking away. I miss the ocean in you. The quiet tide of your fingertips crashing on the shore of my senses, the gentle ebb and flow of your voice, your eyes, your breath; the waves of your desire, the sandy beaches of your smile, the depth of you, the blue of you, the whole of you.
I turned seventeen and forgot what it felt like to be sixteen. Has that ever happened to you? I wonder if one day I’ll flip a page and forget what it feels like to find you everywhere. This morning I woke up and waited for you to happen to me again. There’s that moment of freedom beforehand; the sun is stretching its sleepy hands across my bedroom wall and my eyes are inching open, remnants of dreams still caught in their corners, and the thought of you isn’t the titanic anymore. It’s only a drop, a mere ripple in a shipwreck of things swimming through my mind, and it’s beautiful to belong to myself for a while. But seconds later, and there you are again, blooming like a bruise across my skin, kicking off every other passenger on my train of thought, so that at every station, there’s only you, you, you.
Have you ever wondered where a memory goes when it’s forgotten? In seventeen years of turning with this world, I’ve been to more funerals than baby showers, seen more knees kiss the earth in pain than in prayers, read more poems about loss than about love, but somehow they’re always the same. Everything is the same, and you are the only face that ever matters, the only name that’s more than just a word, you are always the only one. What I’m trying to say is that I miss you. Is that these posts will never come close to doing this feeling justice. How can I explain to you, that I feel you here? I feel you beating in my chest and breathing with my breath and seeping through my head. You’re here, you know? But you’re not.
You’re not here when loneliness wraps so tight around my body I am convinced it is someone else. You’re not here when all I need is to hear your lips wrap around my name so it doesn’t feel like I’m fading away. You’re not here when I put my caps lock on and beg for someone to save me- you’re nowhere to be found. But my fingers find these keys and keep the idea of you awake for a little longer.
You are exhausting to love. My heart is so tired of feeling for the both of us; it is so sick of trying to find ways to make yours pronounce my name, it is fed up of rock bottom being a familiar place. You are exhausting to love, but too beautiful to ignore. Rain. You are rain. Except you are never falling my way. I am always asking you to stay when you answer by walking away.
I love you in a language you are yet to find the audacity to learn.”

Such a beautiful script..

For the Lonely

So i’m in this new phase where i’m starting to find and appreciate random interesting texts while i browse the internet and i will be sharing a few that caught my attention, impressed me, or even something that i feel i can relate to. Here’s my first text slash quote post:

For the Lonely:
“There is some misconception about those that feel that they are alone. We are never truly alone, but only feel that way. Imagine you are sitting on a beach with the surf licking your feet. If you sit there long enough, the tide will come closer to you.
The sea itself wants to lick more of you.
Now, you might argue that when the tide recedes, the sea no longer wants you. This is where I’d say that there’s a misconception. It’s not that the sea no longer wants you, but the sea knows that its time has come for it to break away from you because it is now the sun’s turn. The lightening on the horizon marks the sun’s return. A new day to illuminate the world, but also to rise high and light your way through a new day.
If you choose to remain indoors, well that’s your choice, but the sun is up and is finding its way into your room and into your company. That light filtering in is the sun itself reaching out for you.
Being alone is non-existent. There is always an entire world surrounding you with its comforting arms. The sea, stars, moon, sun, and the very air you breathe are always there for you. Lay on that beach and the sand will conform to your body. Bathe in the sun and it’s light will touch each inch of your exposed skin to warm you. The moon and stars will light your way in the dark.
Loneliness isn’t because there is an absence of someone in your life. It’s an absence of realization that you are surrounded by an entire world.”

Have a blessed Ramadan y’all ❤