grace.

pointing fingers
a dead ringer,
of the man you ever wanted him to be.
looking for someone,
someone to blame,
to tame
the thoughts that run wild
inside your head
from when you were a child,
to your own child
you dread
the possibilities
of the impossibility
of where your life has brought you
you never wanted to be here
at these crossroads
he has rode his high horse
and forced you on this course
and there are screams,
tearing at the seams
of your existence
thread by thread
you feel yourself
falling apart
a part of you wants to let it go
but where will you go
he too is a part
of this machine
this machine named family
so finally, you come back to reality
you must operate, 
grip at your hopeless fate.
because thread by thread
you will unravel
as you travel
with a man you never deserved
but were served
by the good Lords grace.

onIon.

what is one?
but an onion.
numerous layers to peel away,
but who'd bother?
when a few deep gashes can get you a meal
deal.
so who'd care to carefully examine each layer,
so who'd bother with what seems a harmless bulb,
but has roots as deep and complicated as any
no onion can reveal its true identity
without:
tears in its skin, and tears in your eyes.
so believe me when i say:
this bulb you see,
isn't very pretty,
and lonesome is its true sanctuary
however if you make an effort to see,
and get to know me
i could be more than just an onion,
feel a bit human.

the new old.

i didn't know,
i didn't know love,
i didn't know,
till i had to let it go.
a new chapter?
oh no
its a whole new book, you see?
its virgin pages,
are nothing compared to the rugged edges of the life i might be leaving behind.
be kind
open this book, open your mind,
however i see no way,
the ink blots that stain these pages
are testaments
to the mistakes i have tried so hard to edit,
they are lessons learned
and
respect earned
i can't yearn
forever
for the familiarity i so crave,
this book can wait
my happily ever after is hopelessly lingering
in a book that documents my days
with this i admit:
i am afraid, i am in love.

nostalgia.

remember?

the lost art of appreciation?

admiration?

for the tiny little wonders that now go unnoticed

the flutter of a birds wings

that compare to the imprint left by storm winds

hearing the silent song

clear definitions of right and wrong

searching for the end of the rainbow

counting each star

in the night sky

they seemed not so far

staring out the window of a fast moving car

blurs of green

patches of wild flowers

and tall concrete towers

streaks of sunshine

flooding through the windows

illuminating petals of a rose

closing your eyes

to breath in the warmth

hearing the colors

and

seeing the sounds

remember?

hello

her name is aiman. she converts O2 into CO2. she wants to do great things, text book worthy great things. she is complicated, indecisive and mildly insane but lovely nonetheless. fashion is her heroine and she prefers the world through her camera lens. the music she can feel is the kind she listens to. just living life, loving love, and hating hate. desperate to find a balance between fantasy and reality. she lives today, appreciates yesterday and anticipates tomorrow. basically she is a wide eyed dreamer carrying the world in her purse.


love&cupcakes
a.

p.s. realization. complication. communication.

21.

its been a long day

actually

its been a long 20 years

lend me your ears

for i have a story to tell

excuse me if i yell

at 10 i thought life would be easier at 20

i would have answered all the mysteries

deciphered past histories

yet i am more confused than ever before

21 is around the corner, at my door

i haven't discovered my purpose, still

i haven't found that special will

i have been through so much

i cannot possibly articulate

i cannot define love or hate

i do not know what dictates

my unique tastes

i am thankful

for all

i must clarify

if i could go back in time

and even just change this rhyme

i would not

undo a single knot

i have got myself tied in

for the little i have learned is this my friend

life is like a swing, so spin, carelessly spin

life is like a birds wing, so fly, fly high!

take a moment to hear a cry

or take time to smile, and say hi

for now my life seems like a maze

yet it never fails to amaze

right now i'm caught in a haze

but ten years from now

i will have new ways

twenty years from now

maybe a new craze

a few decades from now

maybe the end of my days

but one thing that will always stay true:

i will never quite understand me, him, her, or you.