Soul Writers

4:59 PM Am I the only one who feels like my life is perpetually stuck at 4:59 PM? Just waiting for the clock to mercifully hit 5 and end my long and painful day, but nope, it’s always 4:59. @ASimpleUserName

Temple of reflections: I stand Infront of a mirror and have a staring contest with an enemy. Maybe the bitch in the mirror will break eye contact first. I was never one to look away first. I am a winner. Mirror mirror on the wall, What are these eyes with out a soul? Mirror mirror on the wall, What is this skin? What is this hair? What is this flesh? What a body. What a temple. Before me stands a smiling beast possessing a body with an absent God. Remaining ruins of a temple foreign to it's maker. Unknown to oneself. A misfit and forever disfigured by one's own imagination. It feels hollow. It feels empty. My skin, is getting tighter around my bones. Hand me the scissors. Let me escape it. Time to exercise; a quick cardio, running to the rest room and test my gag reflection against the bath room stall. Look in to the toilet sit and throw up on what you see. What got in must find an exit one way or another. Purge these demons out! Hair is falling out. Organs are failing. Reality deteriorating. What is real? Was I here? Life is cruel while some are blessed with glamour others must fight to take a glimpse of themselves. To smile at one's own reflection and be okay with what you see. I pick up the mirror from the wall and shatter it. Now we are both broken. Scattered to bits and pieces. Maybe someone will glue us back together. But let's hope they cut themselves and bleed along the way. Misery loves company. It's kind of romantic if you ask me. Mirror mirror on the floor. open your mouth and swallow me whole. I am under a microscope of my own consciousness. I want to scream but I have no mouth. This body is a temple and I am trapped in it with a bored God who is lonely and merciless. I am trapped and my God has forsaken me. Fuck this body. Fuck being human. I do not belong to me. Life is cruel and there is a price to pay for being human. Regardless I pray. To be a girl who is self accepting. Picture perfect, a figure divine, a soul beautiful and a human being. A human being sprouting life. A human being that's more than flesh and bones. A human being that survived. A human girl that finally understood that this too shall pass. And all of it did pass. (1 Corinthian 6:19) @anashtray

Hopeless Wanderer Home is between your arms, beneath your jaw, on your chest. Home is the smell of your cologne, the sound of your laughter. Home is your wise gaze, your gentle smile, your soft touch. I shall wander forever, in search for the home I will never have. - Bella

If my eyes could speak They will tell you about the tears I shed for you every night If my heart could speak It will complain to you about the pressure in my chambers due to the overweight of my emotions If my lungs could speak They will say how hard it's to breathe every time I miss you If my mind could speak It will tell you about the love stories that I created for us Instead, my poetry is speaking but still, the loudness of my words couldn't reach you ~Reema Faarath Rasmi~ @reemafaarath37 #scribbles

Alexithymia (inability to express emotions) I don't smile when you look at me. Or put my hand on your thigh when no one's looking. I don't kiss you when we f*ck, and kiss you when you're asleep. I don't text you at 2pm on a Wednesday to tell you I miss you. 2am, when we're drunk and naked, I don't tell you how much I like you. Trace my fingers across your face. Cuddle, feel the warmth of your body when we sleep. Everything I don't do, I do not to lose you. - Bella

City Lights and Shadows Night drive, beneath Addis's streetlight glow, New development sprouts like weeds uncontained. Overdone, overrun, in pursuit of globalization's glow, Leaving the rest in unhabitable battle scarred cities. One wonders, amidst this beauty's gleam, Shall we cherish it, or question its scheme? The cries, mute agony of the mass, Decades of sweat, shattered like glass. Lifetimes of savings, swept away, In the name of urban beautification. Is it worth the curse and agony that follows? All effort washed away, dismissed as distraction amidst the mass mascara. A veil concealing the bloodshed around every corner. A circus of light blinds our weary eyes, In the name of vision, a utopia promised. Can reason speak to the relentless foe? Cloaked in lies, mouths taped, Only allowed to praise for the grand. An invisible purge declared, Mesmerized by illusions of luxury's greed. Food, water, safety, peace remain a myth, Wrath shall find those who praised the gleam, Send a quiet prayer to the forgotten, unseen. Sacrificed in name of grander vision, Causes gained and lost, in a cyclic life. -L.S

I will sharpen my bones, Too sharp to the touch, They will draw blood. I will be painful to other stars that shoot close by too, I already have a sun and felt it’s warmth. I have no desire for light that’s new. I will lock this pretty name so deep within, It will be me. This concrete wall will hold so true. I will stand still until time takes me, Or I take me, Or until you do. This is where I remain, unmovable, unmoved. Until madness, Or until you softly walk on through.

I will sharpen my bones, Too sharp to the touch, They will draw blood. I will be painful to other stars that shoot too close, I already have a sun and felt it’s warmth. I have no desire for light that’s new. I will lock this pretty name so deep within, It will be me. This concrete wall will hold so true. I will stand still until time takes me, Or I take me, Or until you do. This is where I remain, unmovable, unmoved. Until madness, Or until you softly walk on through.

Letters from the Womb: A Love That Never Was It's ironic as much as I hate writing love letters how good I am at them. This a love letter to my mother, I can't write the words so I utter it as baby murmurs. I have been writing love letters ever since I came to know of her. My eyes are closed but I can sense her. I can feel her entirety and the love she has for me. I am just an unborn fetus what do I know about love one might question. I breath the same air as her and her heart beats with mine. I belong to her and the love she has for me is profound. It's nurturing and undying. She is the root that is keeping me alive. My mother is love. I can't wait to meet her and live with her in her world. She is kindness and hope. She is what excites me to go on from month to month. I feel wanted. I feel needed. I matter. I feel alive. She is what calms me down in the storm of doubt. She is the tree of life and I am her tiny flower so I grow and I grow and I grow, then I blossom and she will hold me in adoration. I can't wait to meet her..... I can't wait to see the shape of her face, The brown of her eyes and the strand of her hair, But, I can't, meet her. I can feel my mother's sadness despite her love for me. I can feel her grief and worry. What are you weary mommy, you have me? I love it when you sing to me. Can't you feel it? My hand reaches out to you. I wiggle my leg just to let you know I am there. I recognize you. I already know you for I am part of you. I can hear you cry sometimes and it breaks my little heart. You are a vessel of wisdom and the canal of life. Why so sad dear mother for you have me to worship you? You tell me about the sun, the flowers, the birds and the bees. The rainbows and the rain drops. How beautiful it feels to see life through your eyes. I am almost here mommy. I can't wait to meet you but wait, I still can feel your pain. I can feel your stress. But wait, I am finding it hard to breath. What's happening? Why can't I breath? I am almost with you. You are going to hold me in your arms and sing me a lullaby. You are going to sit on the rocking chair and kiss my forehead as I fall asleep. Isn't that what you told me? Is that what you promised? Here I am at last. I have arrived. I arrived but I caused you pain. I never knew the begining of life starts with your pain and mine. The outside is cold and bright. I feel cold where is the warmth that I once knew. Mother why aren't you holding me? Mother I can't breath, I am turning blue. It is painful to keep my eyes open. I am not moving. I am not crying. Is this normal? I am shivering. I feel weak. Who is this stranger that holds me up side down. What is this room with it's neon lights and strange atmosphere? I can not breath even though they keep moving me. What are they doing? I didn't understand it at first but now I am realize what is going to happen next. I am sorry mother I guess I am not meant to be in your world. They handed you my body wrapped in the blanket you sow me; before I closed my eyes one last time to never open them again. You spoke to me. You sound as lovely as the first time I heard you speak to me. How beautiful you are my beautiful mother. I felt your hot tears dropping on my face. I feel loved. I am home. Good bye mother, now I know why you always called me "Angel". @anashtray