middleeasternpopsicle

[middleeasternpopsicle]

When we dream or hope

we fill up our pockets up with pretty shiny stones

Then we are flung into the black, watery abyss

We can only dream, hope and pray

they don't weigh

us down.

[middleeasternpopsicle]

On being kind

It's getting harder to smile wide when

friends tell you

to become a weapon.

When you find solace in kindness and forgiving

and they tear at your last seams and say

it's no reason to keep going.

I start seeing that when I give

and I give

and I give

and I keep giving. and nobody.

returns even a salt crystal

of the ocean i shared.

I am not naive.

I am just something you will never be. Boil in your jealousy because I have the strength to keep going while you wallow in grudges and hatred and gossip.

[middleeasternpopsicle]

This must be a nightmare. Take me back

[middleeasternpopsicle]

emotional masochism

Everyone is a tiny bit masochistic. Pushing your nail down when you know it hurts because there is a wound underneath. Picking at a scab. Dragging your tongue across a blister inside your mouth.

Emotionally, it is opening a door to better hear the war happening down the stairs. Hating how the rooms empty into quiet. Despising how eventually, tears dry and the dust of turmoil is swept under that infernal rug. Hollow apologies will soon start flowing.

Wishing but dreading that the screaming would amplify, bit by bit, a catalyst waiting to happen. Then, the yelling would burst through the windows, shattering each one into puny, magnificent particles. The house would catch fire, explode, or fall into a void. The screams are ear-splitting now.

Alas, your feet are on the cold wooden floor of the bedroom, still tethered to bleeding roots. The dust settles. Prepare your sympathy.