Life.

Life is a bright sun, but it is also a tornado. These are not real stories, but the problems are real. Also, these are two different stories. I hope we survive. Instagram handle: @myspirals


She was only eleven when this had happened. It was a sunny afternoon and she wanted to play with her friends in the park. While playing Hide and Seek, her friends hid here and there and she was alone in the park, skipping and hopping excitedly as she looked for her friends. It seemed to be a good day. While running towards a bush where she thought her friends were hiding, she tripped and scraped her knee. Tears wetted her cheeks as a few drops of blood trickled down her knee. A guy in about his thirties, saw her crying and walked up to her. He consoled her and took her to his house to see the injury.

He used a piece of cloth and rubbed her knee with it to remove the blood, and she gasped because of the pain. Slowly, he started rubbing her thighs and when she tried to back away, he held her leg tightly in place “Let me take care of you.”. He touched her inner thighs and smiled as he moved closer to her area and her eyes dilated with fear. This wasn’t right. She screamed but he used the piece of cloth to tie her mouth. His fingers touched her in places that she now refers to as scars.


He was twenty-one. Life seemed to be a frolic in the park, happy and delightful. He had a mother and two sisters, and he loved them to death. They lived in a small part of the city. He went out to buy food for his family, when out of nowhere, something blew a hundred kilometers away. Almost in succession, there was two more blasts a little to the east of it. He had no idea what was happening, but he ran anyway. Not away from the blasts, though. Towards them. That’s where his house was and that’s where his family was. After running for ten minutes at full pace, he opened the door to his house as his heavy breathing slowed a bit. They were safe.

He took hold of their hands and asked them to hurry as they ran away from the monstrous blasts. They hurried towards the sea where a lot of people seemed to be headed. He saw boats and sighed in relief. They got on the boat and saw their home turn to smoke and dust as they moved away from the catastrophe. Refugees. Where were the refugees headed? Towards lonely hearts and no home.


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Whisky flowers.

“She’s at peace, and yet somehow on fire.” – Samantha King

She’s the flower you give to your Valentine. She’s gorgeous and she just always smells so good?
She’s the scotch whisky you drink at a meeting. She makes you feel alive, and makes you forget everything wrong with you and this world.
She’s the autumn tree with golden leaves. She makes the world more beautiful than you could have imagined.
She’s a Polaroid. You just want to look at her forever even though she isn’t perfect. She makes you love photographs.
She’s the Henley that you wear on a date. She makes you look good, and keeps you warm inside.
She’s the mirror that you so often stare at. She helps you find mistakes that your own eyes couldn’t see.
She’s the star. She lights up, turns into fire and brings the world moments of ecstasy.
She is fire. She will burn you down, or warm you up. She will light the city on fire and have no difficulty whatsoever.
She’s a sword. The same sword your frantic eyeballs and sweaty palms try to find before the dragon wipes your existence.
She is the loyalty, grit and grace you need to be a man.
She’s the queen that has nurtured the deserving and cut in half the men who has tried to harm her or her people.
She is the cherry wine you drink with so much haste, not realizing it might be one of the finest you could ever have.
She is the knight beneath the heavy armors and metal helms. She fights monsters and demons and men. She cannot be defeated.
She is the beauty and the beast.
She is the #MeToo that should have shaken your existence, and filled you with shame. She makes you look good. What do you do?


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Earth.

How terrible
must a world be
for innocents to die
and rogues to live?
How terrible
must a world be
for just two words
to be able to sum it up?
“Me too.”

How terrible
must a world be
for hearts to be broken
and promises alike?
How terrible
must a world be
for girls to be raped
and guys to be demoralized?
How terrible
must a world be
for Aleppo to fall
and have disasters everywhere?

It must be
as terrible as
the world you and I
live in.


Previous post : Damn, your eyes.
Related post : This damn world.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞