A Torch In The Night

IMG_20171231_132642_625.jpgShe looks at fireworks
And the child in her resurfaces
I watch her, my stomach twisting
And despair creeping up my throat
She’s silhouetted against the night
And the skyline of this city
She’s beautiful
And I am afraid
For her, for what comes next.
She’s the torch in the night
And I run my way back
Skipping a step at the stairs
To the dark that feels familiar.
She’s alive
And I envy her
She’s brimming with delight
And I feel like my insides
Are burning and curling
I run my way back
So that I don’t run into decay.

~Saadia

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Velvet

8c575177c41ee7c71470edb0a7f585df.jpgYour hair curves around itself
Like tresses of silk overlap
And like water
Ever flowing and unebbing
Like folds of velvet
Soft but firm
And dark… like the night sky
But flecked with lighter hues
Almost as if
Beams of light
Tear at the sky
With lethal claws of morning.

– Saadia

This Story

tumblr_oovcdyaCVb1v2b1lto1_400.jpgFlipping through the leaves

Of all the times I’d still been here,

And thinking of what went wrong,

but my mind is as blank

As the sky after snow,

Intersected by the dead, cold branches.

And the book snapped shut

I blinked at all it truly was,

And saw that after all,

The story ends with us.

– Saadia

Inspired by All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. ❤

Spring

 

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Its beautiful.

The tiny velvet blue petals and white dandelions, the sparrow and its hearth, the pine. The budding grass, lush and young, the marbled columns, long roads and the singing of the rare scarlet bird. Its magic and I have fallen for it many times but there is this dark place inside, where the night reigns and stars peek through sometimes, smoke and carnage, broken bones and tired limbs, grey and raven, overlapping and drowning, spring has not found a home yet. Not yet.

– Saadia

Color me Grey

 

grey.jpg

The grey had found a home in the white, it consumed ruthlessly until it was dark and dull, like the sky had turned ashy. But it was beautiful, it was the color of death yet it felt like the beginning of all we never had, it was grey fog on our work of art but it was breathtaking.

Bronze, auburn and heather have their share of beauty but mauve is a breath of fresh air. The air tasted sharp the day grey took over, like droplets of water, the color of sea foam were dispensed somewhere inside. The air looked like the color of broken bones but it was stunning, like ivory had met stone.

Raven and ink have their share of hiding our scars but slate is the color of invincibility. The ground was soft the day grey took over, like its burden was already gone, like broken promises and unmet dreams had sailed away like dandelion seeds. The ground still looked shaken but it was bracing, like obsidian had met tangerine.

~ Saadia

Run

images-6Run, kid, run till your lungs ache and your shins split open. Run till you leave the dead earth hanging on the shattered horizon. Run, leave the immaculate fields behind, plains where the grass is too green, run and strip the unnecessary. Run, love, run till your eyes have drowned in an ocean of stinging tears, run till the trees drift away into an illusional distance. Run till the rain has drenched your bones and the snow nestles in your hair. Run till you are carved raw, run till you find the abode of your demons and the abbey of your angels, run , for the sake of your damned life, run. Run till colours drink themselves up in the sky and the night folds into herself.

– Saadia