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i will not ask for love until i am handed some. i ask for your love, vulnerable and raw. will you rip your chest apart to show me which demons lie beneath it? remember, the cascading waterfall i took you to? hidden away in the dark, thick woods. i remind myself to never allow any other visitor there because while i was busy looking at your beautiful eyes, you polluted my nature. last night, the waterfall cried to me, it almost killed me.
the flood broke the dam built above it and ran to me. my world rushed away. i took sixteen years to plant them and you took less than six minutes to destroy me. i held out my hand to find where yours disappeared. i never knew my hand would only find air, thick burning air. the air suffocated me to bits until i could no longer handle my mind. i fell, oh, i fell so hard for you.
my wanderlust ended on you and my safe place was destroyed by you. how could this coeval barrier die, leaving me behind to survive? i tried to avert its mind but there was nothing i could do to make it stay. it said it had to leave. when my safe land diminished, i was left naked. my hands were too small to cover myself. so i stood there, gradually forgetting what modesty felt like and took one deep breath and ran. ran through the world, the waterfall, the broken dam, i ran through my shattered mind and right out of you.
i was anxious to live, but the outside beast kissed me gently to soothe me out. he thought i was too broken to fall, so he caught me. the soft love, i pushed it hard. so he left after i refused to eat meat. all these stories i had heard but he was lenitive, too soft for me. i was a damn sinner, i thought god forgave me but this pain showed i had some more praying to do. i began to rethink my lost qualities.
i was gentle and kind, i was beautiful. i hated beauty. my inside was the hub of sins. i could not find any clothes to cover myself and, surprisingly, i was glad. no more encasing my mind. glad it all ended. i knew i was never going to find peace again but i had to live through the noxious melancholia. sometimes, once in a chiliad, i miss you. i miss your tender touch and your loving warmth. i miss your kindness and i seem to never linger farther than that because it all ended on kindness. your kindness that killed my peace.
zarnab tufail a simple brown girl who pretends to read a lot of books and lives in a small city by the sea. she can be found posting some of her work on https://www.instagram.com/zarnable/