I write

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I write

Sometimes I’m not a writer

Just someone who puts pen to paper

To find words 

For things unsaid

For the inner turmoil 

The comfort, the dread.

I write

When everything is quiet

Even more when it’s not

To find space

In the crowd

A hum in the void

So silent, so loud.

I write

Because I can’t not

The thoughts, the feelings

Find strings of words

Suspended in the air

No tangible form

No force, no flair.

I write

Often in my head

The beginning, the end

And the in-between

Tales of shade, of light

Of loss, of faith

Each day, each night.

I write.

What choice do you have?

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You didn’t know

life would abruptly be reduced to

needing that hospital bed

Or one of those “life-saving” drugs

Or just some oxygen

For a few more breaths.

You’d feel helpless

You’d be in pain

You’d close your eyes sometimes

To feel a little sane.

But every time you’d open them

There’d be another message

Another call for help

That utter desperation

That fear of loss

Or that of holding on.

You’d feel stranded

You’d feel blue

You’d wipe off a few tears

And start anew.

There’d be people gasping for breath

Their loved ones crowding at hospitals

And pharmacies and mortuaries

No distance, no stillness

But what choice do they have

Except to fight for a little longer.

You’d feel powerless

You’d feel worn-out

Like craving for water

In the worst kind of drought.

Who knew life would come to this

When people around you would die

Just because their cries went unheard

Or help was too far away

And you sat there trying

Screaming in a void.

You’d feel feeble

You’d be cross

Seeing all the commotion

Facing all the loss.

That’s all life is now

A mush of feelings, an effort to survive

One step forward, two steps back

But you don’t stop moving

Because what choice do you have.

What choice do you have?

You don’t want to fall

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How do you fly

When you’re tied to the ground

You spread your wings

You let them flutter

You try to escape

But your feet are bound.

How do you dream

With that blurry-eyed vision

You envision the laughter

You half-choose your road

You look for some hope

But there is none.

How do you breathe

Under the weight of this world

You gasp for some oxygen

You let out a sigh

You screech under your blanket

But it all goes unheard.

How do you move

When all else is still

You put a step forward

And then one back

You try to march on

But it’s all uphill.

Maybe you stare

At the chaos that ensues

You move and breathe

You dream and fly

Not knowing how or why

Without any cues.

You’re still there

At the centre of it all

Not sure what it means

Not sure how’d it go

Holding on to a fence

‘Cause you don’t want to fall.

And you won’t.

Maybe.

Isolation

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These present times
Will help you test
How you find togetherness
In distances
How you sit with yourself
In silence.

How you learn to be still
And slow down
How there’s no escape
No running away
From who you are
Who you’ve been
Who you’ll become.

These present times
Will help you test
How you find yourself
In the midst of
Everything that feels so illusory
Yet oddly surreal.

Humans

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We write

We dream about writing,

We love

We dream about loving.

We have it all

But then we have nothing

We crave attention

But also tell ourselves 

It doesn’t matter.

We hope when everything

Is close to falling apart.

And when we don’t hope

We dream about hoping.

We quietly immerse our hearts

In that need for human connection

And then we take a step back

Because we’re scared

Scared of being hurt

Scared of falling down.

 

We smile

We dream about smiling

We find some solace in our solitude

And hold onto that 

As the prettiest, shiniest armor we have.

We fight through all the pain

And use that as a measure for our success

For our wins in life

Our triumphs in times of struggle.

 

We grow

We dream about growing

Not just in age

But in experience

The way we feel

The way we react

The way we live.

And we continue to live

But we dream about dying

Until one day 

When we do.

What anxiety feels like

I was always an over thinker.
Maybe always a little restless.
But I didn’t know what anxiety felt like.
Until last year.

It felt like my stomach was constantly crumbling into pieces.
I struggled to breathe, gasping for air all the time.
I felt knots building up in my gut, in my chest, in my brain.
I felt heavy, I felt tight.

The triggers kept coming back
On different days, in different forms.
A sound, a message, a face.
And all of a sudden, it was there.
Like a punch on my face, a kick in my stomach.

But how do I explain what anxiety felt like?
I told my mom who forcefully said,
“You are overthinking”
And then my friend, who told me:
“Just Breathe.”

I saw a doctor
who gave me some pills
And all of a sudden I stopped feeling.
Anything, everything.

The triggers didn’t bother.
But there was no joy.
I needed to feel.
I needed to smile and cry and think.
I pulled myself up.
From the bed, from those thoughts.
Force fed myself even when it felt nauseating.
I pressed my hand, my arms, my stomach, my chest.
Held on to my body.
Soft, then hard, then harder.

Now I knew what anxiety felt like.
And I tried to fight it.
Again and again.
Boxing, writing, talking on the phone.
Reading, breathing, and taking long, long showers.
I tried to fight it
Again and again.
I distanced myself from the triggers
Those sounds
Those people
Those spaces
It got better. It had to.
My heart felt less like jelly.
I could breathe.
Open those knots.
I saw the colours, I saw the light.

Maybe it was over.
Maybe that was it.
Until one day again
All of a sudden
It was back.
But this time I knew what anxiety felt like.
And I knew how to embrace it.
I knew how to fight it.

I wage these wars every time it touches me.
And maybe that’s what I’ll do.
Again and again.
Forever.

Overwhelmed

Deep breaths

Short breaths

Trying all the ways

Everyday.

What’s joy, what’s fear

What’s pain, what’s hope

Every feeling and emotion

Keeps choking your breath.

It’s all overwhelming

Sometimes too much

But you need to go on

You need to hold on.

The world stares at you

In disgust

And disbelief

Everytime you say

‘It’s time to give up.’

‘No you can’t.’

As if life only rewards the strong

But who knows what strength is.

Not you. Not me.

Who knows these highs and lows

These currents of exhaustion

The idea of living lives

That are overwhelming.

Lives that are a bit too much.

All they want you to be

Is a fake version of yourself

To suppress each emotion

All your sorrow and panic

To show up with a smile

With a twinkle in your eyes

Even when your insides

Are burning

Even when you’re anxious

And oh so overwhelmed!

There’s no place here

For people like you

For people like me.

 

Of Children of Syria

Turkish photographer Osman Sağırlı took this picture at the Atmeh refugee camp in December 2014 Osman Sağırlı

Turkish photographer Osman Sagirli took this picture at the Atmeh refugee camp in December 2014

 

Mom hold me here

And hold me there

Clutch my bones

From everywhere

I feel the fear

I feel the pain

The way they see me

With disdain.

We crossed the sea

We trudged the land

And as I wailed

You held my hand.

We left behind

Those times of joy

The cake in the fridge

My little toy.

I don’t know yet

What caused the wound,

You screamed with ache

And Daddy fumed.

What suffering, What pain

What bloodshed means,

Some broken souls

Some shattered dreams.

I hope we go back

Home someday

But you tell me

“It won’t let us stay.”

Out in the darkness

As I stare

Mom clutch my bones

Just everywhere.

Those Dreams…

I think I keep it in a veil

A dream that flutters inside my hub

It urges me one time and more,

Speaks words I cannot fathom

Begets imaginings each day

To stir the essence of my core.

 

No, dreams don’t let you drop

From the edge of life and light

Or the verge of a wretched end,

They lug you in arms so strong

Thrust you with the waves and winds

And get you a fitting friend.

 

A hope that sets alight  this dream

Keeps you wakeful at nights

Or pesters you in the day,

Since it has known forever

The clout they bring along

To lift you on the way.

 

No dreams can’t let you fail

Did they pledge realism?

Or triumph at every step?

What they swore by was a meaning

To the existence you embrace

To your spirit and its depth.

 

To a dream that always was and is

Don’t abscond it in the mid

Or ram it back too hard,

Fly with its layers in flashes

And follow all that it beholds

With every inch of your heart.

My Friends Are Special…

Not because they hold me
In the scary thickening cold
Not because they kick me
For some reasons untold.
They’d always light up darkness
With warm and tender smiles
Replace my bare walls
With vibrant colored tiles.

Not because they laugh
When I falter in between
Not because they construe
What my silences mean.
They’d pick me up with vigor
When life would make me weak
Surface out the world of bliss
When it’s all so dark and bleak.

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Not because they scold me
For hopping on the street
Not because they bring me
Everything I love to eat.
They amuse me when I’m jaded
Nurse me when I’m sick,
Make me look like a clown
In the pictures that we click.

Not because they hug me
When no one gives a damn,
It’s just because they love me
For the weird thing that I am.