Day Twenty : New?

Strip away every known.

Every tendency

every fallacy

Clean off the bone

Past the skin but

leave the poetry

wash the words away

Dull the clarity

Take the lessons

-spare the sins

They have no meaning.

Dissect understanding.

Amputate

that knife edge balance

of what I have and

what it takes

Snip, snip, all the habits

Every face

Remove the wings

Bind the fingers

Stitch the lips into closing,

eyes frozen

I take every bit of I from me

and I

still remain

But who am I then?

New?

©️Yusra

19.04.2018

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Under These Red Sheets

Under these red sheets,

I bury my morning dreams

The clay of the sky is raw

shaped by fingers that hesitated

to smooth the creases out of

intentions, prevaricated

allowed to harden, flawed

left to permanence, endowed

with the attributes of being just wrong

these tiles are poised to fall

These doors that lead to walls

dead ends of dust and bone

Tombs to mistakes preserved

of people and pain long gone

Under these red sheeted tiles

I bury mourning memories

Baskets of forgotten scents

routines of glories deceased

In corners, green shoots still crawl

traces of persistent hope

Pathological, sometimes it seems,

that cancerous happiness grows

I cannot hope to recover

the already hardened faults

the cracks that run, closed over

by vainly slapped on gloss

Broken girls grow into broken women

And despite the damage being done

The soil of my mind is fertile and

with stubborn resilience overrun

The dead wood still speaks to me

There is escape yet in these leaves

To nourish what I know I can be

Under these tiles I bury my dreams

©yusra

06.12.2017

Winter blossoms. 🌺

Membranes

Reality, as a membrane

is so very thin

It stretches over my probing fingers

I breach the taut whisper

And in the moment it

replaces my skin

pushing into nonexistence, across

The barrier I blindly feel

between time and place, flaws

ripple, faults splinter, I

cannot hear the walls implode

My middle ear collapses and

I pause on the lip, pigeon toed

Perched on the rift

Jumping adrift

hanging out of a wound in the sky

I can almost touch you- almost

Maybe just one step more?

-Where does this road go?

Membranes

16.11.2017

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Where does this road go? Hang me from the torn clouds, string me up from the stars, rip a hole in the fabric of reality, I pushed myself face first into the unknown for you and I don’t even know where you are. Somewhere at a desk, where the window on the right has a potted plant with a drooping yellow flower, you’re leaning back in your chair, letting the noise of the room wash over you like the cold processed air spewing from the vent across the fat girl’s glittery table- it fills your ears, it’s filling your lungs, it’s filling your eyes, you choose not to care. Once upon a time, you tore the fabric of reality for me. You laughed and you shredded the meanings of what I held true into pieces into words and fantasies and utter absurdity. And then you shut the door. Your ink blue fingers flowed back together and poured themselves into crevices I hadn’t dared to expose.

Can you blame me, for tearing my mind apart, breaking windows into every wall I meet? Can you blame me for setting fire to every road behind me, looking for you, and trying to understand why I even do?

Wait. Here’s a fork. Where does this road go? .

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Membranes | yusra

Find me on Facebook, beautiful people. I know I’m late to the social media party, so help me spread the word?

And the cookies. Love. ❤️

Let Me Just Fall 

For James. Where there is a tomorrow. Where there is an honest love. Find me there. We only truly wait for what we are meant to have. 

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I looked beyond you into the stars  

Outer space was not far from me   

But you remained a fallacy   

A galaxy of self deception  

I scrape my skin off my hands  

My nails blunt on my bones, but  

I feed this immolation
A schism of the tarry night   

Take your hand, reach for mine  

But you never will  

These stars have gone still  

Their burning eyes swill  

Cups of soot, poisoned glances  

Bittered tears, the ashes  

of my blazing, broken, disintegrating heart  
I looked beyond you into the stars   

Outer space was not far from me  

Unlike the ground, duplicitiously calling  

Promising non-existence, falling  

Wouldn’t be hard   

I looked beyond you into the stars   

Pleading that I could just be let to   

fall to you   

But you were so  

so   

so very far   

Let Me Just Fall 

For James. 

06.11.2017

The Pretty Man 

*

For a man of your stature

You’d think I’d be used 

To standing in the span

Of your arms, less confused 

Less unsettled, not unnerved 

Not so throughly dwarfed 

By the sudden lack of air in my lungs 

That you cause

Your hands fit my waist, your chin 

 on my shoulder,

I always start at that small

 touch of your breath 

We murmur like lost lovers, like

 Star crossed the others 

Whose very existence tempts death 

In this darkness, I am allowed 

To believe all you’ve said 
There is a warmth in faith awry

In your arms there is a belief 

That no lack of conviction or

Fear in the night can steal from me

And all I need, is sacrifice 

One hour against the dawn, is all 

To turn my face and close my eyes 

And not watch the light fall on our wall 

To watch instead your fingers move 

In my hair as I’ll blind disrobe 

Behind me is a lone shadow 

You cast none-  

Pretty words rarely do. 

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The Pretty Man 

© Yusra 

01.11.2017 .

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Here’s to pretty men who turn your heads inside out. ❤️
Also.. Good morning, my lovelies 😘

Querulous 

If you were to sit in front of me, and talk about the weather, it would take the turn of seasons for us to find and understanding. If you were to find me when looking for a canvas to display your musing on, then.. that’s what you’d see. All men are somewhere between white paper and mirrors, to those who know the right questions, we are but answers. So scratch the table with your fingernail, stand on edge of that cliff, and ask. We are two steps away at any moment from cabbages and kings, from ravens and nevermores, and irreparably broken wrists. Take the step and unsettle me, look for all the wrong words with the right intentions, stain your fingertips in my glass and for god’s sake, ask. I am an answer for those waiting to be rendered querulous. 

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(I blame my coffee entirely, for how full of myself I am today. 😄) 
Have a lovely day, my beauties. ❤️
-yusra