She felt like her heart had been ripped out.

Whatever was left of it, anyway, it was never whole to begin with. She felt empty, estranged, lonely. Alone. Yeah, that was the most painful one of all. Being alone. She was always so terrified of it and now her worst nightmare had come true, there was literally no one around her. No one to talk to, no one to make her feel better. No one to comfort her.

She knew she was the one who drove them all away. She knew that if she gave any of her so-called “friends” a call now they’d act as though nothing happened… they’d act like everything was just alright. But she couldn’t do it, because she’d always know. Always know that she was the one who made that extra move and that no one else bothered to.

A tear swam out of her tired eyes and fell like a rock upon her chest. Her tears were heavy and painful, each one cut her skin wherever it landed. She looked around her and felt like everything was going in slow motion. The sun was shining against her skin, burning her into a sense of fatigue. She liked it. She wanted to feel that helpless. For once, she wanted to feel out of control. For once, she wanted to feel out of it, she wanted to feel like she didn’t have a choice to make on what was about to happen to her. She was so tired of choosing, so tired of resisting.

She watched the cars below her, whooshing by so busily and carelessly. She tried to remember the last time she felt like that. For the past year it seemed like she was jumping from one worry to the next. One loss after the other. One dream shattering before the next.

She’d lost the love of her life to something so mundane yet she couldn’t fight it and it tore her heart in two. She’d lost her closest friends to distance, lust, pride and irrational fears. She lost her faith because she couldn’t believe that a divine power would bear to watch her suffer like she was. She lost her family because families tend to make too small a deal out of depression… and her inability to explain why she was fading caused them to undermine her pain. And in the end she lost her sanity… and it was the hardest thing for her to lose.

She looked down one more time. She was always so afraid of heights and that made her particularly proud of herself at that moment. There she stood on the edge and not a single cell of her body felt any sense of fear. Sadness, only sadness. That was the only emotion her body had allowed her to feel for some time now.

She waited for the ant-sized people to clear the way below her and then for the first time in her life, she craved a loss. And with one step forward, she achieved it.

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah



“What is it that sinks when the heart does?”
In my case it was faith.

I loved and lost
But then again, everyone has
Everyone’s heartbroken
Sad and angry
Everyone’s got issues
So why is it an issue if it’s the norm?
We’ve all got problems
Yet we all shy away
From telling the truth
Yes, life’s fucked me over
And over and over
Why am I still surprised each
And every single time?

Life is cruel and with every passing day
I realize the extent of its cruelty.
Its harshness and brutality
Its unfairness
Its greed
Its persistence in taking away
Everything that makes me smile
Everything that makes me genuinely happy
I’ve tried
Countless times
To look
On the bright side
But what am I supposed to do
When they turn off the lights there?
What am I supposed to do when everything that was once bright
Turns black and empty?
When every little piece of faith I’ve had
Has tragically vanished
My faith in love
Has been torn to shreds
Sharp and painful little shreds
That I walk on so full of pride.

In the end the full and unabridged truth is that
No one genuinely cares
For anyone else but themselves
It’s a fact that took me years to learn
But I have yet to perfect in terms of physical enacting
It’s an art that you have to get just right
It’s intricate in its rules
And requirements
Selfishness is a survival technique
A talent,  a skill
That I now strive to obtain
I want to be able
To look at someone
Right in the eye and say
“Fuck you, I come first.”
Even when I
And everyone else
Know it’s not true
I wanna be able to act without caring
About the repercussions
The trouble I’d be causing
The pain I’d be inflicting
Just like everyone else in this Godless Earth
This troubled town where the line between
Right and Wrong
Has been drawn so thick and in blood-red ink
Yet the ones who drew it are the ones who cross it
And the ones who cross it are the ones who judge.

I loved and lost
And I lost everything in the process
Including, but not limited to, myself.

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah

My new favorite poem: “The Kama Sutra Retold”

So I’ve had Sujata Bhatt’s poetry book “Point No Point” for a while now but I never really got around to reading it. Today, for some reason, I saw the book on my shelf and decided to check it out. This poem’s title caught my attention (for obvious reasons) and I decided to read it. It took me exactly 10 seconds to fall in love with it.

I don’t post other people’s poetry/works on my blog. But I looked for this particular poem online and I couldn’t find it anywhere so I decided to type it out because I really want everyone to read it. It’s so breathtakingly beautiful in its simplicity and I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. I can honestly say it is currently my favorite poem. I’ve read it almost 10 times in the last  20 minutes.

Ok, without further ‘ado, I guess I should let you all read it. Again, this is Sujata Bhatt’s work and not mine. Oh, and the parts in italics are my favorite parts of the poem, just in case you’re wondering!

Here you go:

The Kama Sutra Retold, by Sujata Bhatt

Then Roman Svirsky said,
‘it is illegal in Russia to write
about sex
so it is important
for Vasily Aksyonov
to write about it -‘

You laugh,
but I want to know
how would we break the long silence
if we had the same rules?

It’s not enough to say
she kissed his balls,
licked his cock long
how her tongue could not stop.

For he thinks of the first day:
she turns her head away
as she takes off her T-shirt
blue jeans, underwear, bra.
She doesn’t even look at him
until she’s in the lake,
the clear water up to her neck
yet unable to hide her skin.

They swim out
to the islands
but he doesn’t remember swimming;
just brushing against her leg
once, then diving down
beneath her thighs    staying underwater
long enough for a good look,
coming up for air      and watching
her black hair streaming back straight,
then watching her
step over
the stones, out of the water.

She doesn’t know what to say.
He wishes they were swans.
Yeats’s swans
would not need to speak
but could always glide across
other worlds;
magical, yet rustling with real reeds.

The sun in her eyes
so they move closer to the pine trees.
When he touches her nipples
he doesn’t know who is more surprised
(years later he remembers that look,
the way her eyes open wider).
He’s surprised
she wants him
to kiss her nipples again and again
because she’s only 17 he’s surprised
her breasts are so full.
She’s surprised
it feels so good
because he’s only 17 she’s surprised
he can be so gentle
yet so hard inside her,
the way pine needles
can soften the ground.
Where does the ground end
and she begin?
She must have swallowed the sky
the lake, and all the woods
veined with amber brown pathways;

for now great white wings
are swooping through
her thighs, beating stronger
up her chest,
the beak stroking her spine
feathers tingling her skin,
the blood inside
her groin swells

while wings are rushing to get out,

Let me know what you guys think (and if I’m crazy for falling in love with it as much as I have!).