sleepless night

تجيك التهايم وانت نايم

the art of pretending it doesn't hurt

أَتُقالُ فِيكِ قَصيدَةٌ مَرْمُوقَةٌ أنتِ القَصائِدُ ، مَطْلَعًا ، وَخِتامَا .

industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other and the voices that implore "you should be doing more" to you , i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it , ooh

cause they said the end is coming everyone's up to something i find myself running home to your sweet nothings outside they're push and shoving you're in the kitchen humming all that you ever wanted from me was nothing

i wish my eyes could take photos

“Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,” - Sonnets

أَلَمَّ طَيفٌ فَهاجَ لي طَرَبي لَيلَةَ بِتنا بِجانِبِ الكُثُبِ أَلَمَّ بي وَالرِكابُ ساكِنَةٌ لَيلاً وَهَمّي بِذِكرَتي وَصَبي فَبِتُّ أَرعى النُجومَ مُرتَفِقاً مِن حُبِّها وَالمُحِبُّ في تَعَبِ

but it's nice to play pretend