Day Sixteen- Weighted Breaths

Day sixteen – Weighted Breaths, for th and prompt, ‘balloons shaped like anchors’. 

We’re in the second half already! How time flies!

How’s your April going?

Noms, 

Yusra ❤️

Day Thirteen- The Game of No True Names 


It’s starts a day before 

I say I can’t in the morning

You say you won’t in the afternoon

-We both can 

I tell you I’m home 

When the sidewalk 

Is where I am

You tell me you’re waiting 

When you’re already gone

I pretend to be forlorn

Five years from today

Is decided by a tomorrow 

The rest of our lives, 

Like the day after 

You call me slut 

And I call you chutiya

And we pretend there wasn’t a bite

To those words 

Some days we play well

Some days we don’t go home 

Quite the same 

I wonder how long we’ll walk away unscathed 

Back and forth in this game

Where we change all the names 

©Yusra 

13.04.2017 

Day Thirteen- for the prompt by the exceptional J.R. Rogue- the game in which we change the names. 

Day Twelve- By Heart 

Relearning Happiness 

It was like learning how to pray 

How folded hands and murmured words

Led to understanding the truth 

Hidden behind empty gestures 

That God was not the property of 

Apoplectic corpulents

It was like recognizing injury 

Palpating for wounded feelings, verbally 

Cautiously probing what prodded 

People to lash out, unreserved 

That I was not to blame, it 

Was not deserved 

It was every instance of healing 

Every time I consciously, heathenly withdrew 

Every time I groped for an answer 

Smiling at what I knew was untrue 

With the short term memory 

of the broken and the uneasy 

the flawed and the restless

the faceless unnamed  

the damaged and the lamed, 

It comes as a taste of the glorious 

a recognition of your own holiness 

Like a mouthful of sunshine, every time

That you relearn happiness 

©Yusra 

12.04.2017

Day Ten- Three, Two, One… 

I’d like to think that I’ve outgrown this phase of my life. You know, when you’re young, and incidents like this haunt you for days. Getting older has helped me become remarkably thick skinned. Sometimes, some things manage to pierce through, though.
I like to think that I’m unafraid. That I’m stronger, ballsier, in-fucking-destructible. Maybe I am, sometimes. Other times, I am not. When I stay up at night, after all the lights are off, and then sit on my bed in the dark and comb my hair, I am not. In that moment I am back to being a scared sixteen year old, who’s father cut her long hair off because it might attract boys. I forget to look in the mirror while getting dressed sometimes. Because somewhere, I’m still that girl who never had a full length mirror in the house, because she wasn’t supposed to think about her appearance. 

I’m still that girl who wakes up in the middle of the night at the slightest nudge of the bedroom door, because I haven’t outgrown my fear of the people who live behind it. 
I may be a lot of things, but more than anything else, I am caged. Im struggling to redefine myself, to reprogram myself, to lose the conditioning I was given every day of my life. Some days, I like to think that I’ve walked far away enough. But fact remains that at the end of the day I have to turn back, and head back to my charade of a home. 
And that is the true meaning of being trapped. 

Day Four- A Piece of the Sky 

Day Four- had a downpour!

There’s something so irresistibly cheery about Summer rains. 🙂

Unfortunately I can’t share the videos I took, here. If you can, though, pop over to my instagram account and check them out- @calliopes_lyre_ 
What’s made you happy today? 

Love ❤️