qutouf

This is my Last Poem About You

This is (umm) my last poem about you.

Kinda.

No no, this is definitely, probably, my last poem about you

I mean..This is what I hope will be my last poem about you.
Because…Time had stopped for you 

Life stopped for you

Wells ran dry for you

Patience wore and I grew old for you

And in your aftermath 

Tragedy sat well at the pit of my stomach

Bitterness at the tip of my tongue

Emptiness filled me to the rim until it spilled over with forgiveness I still haven’t forgiven myself for.

And In your aftermath

Ink to paper became what tears are to skin 

Just a trail back to sadness

Ink to paper became what water is to lungs

 The more I spat out the better I breathed

Ink to paper became what language is to the deaf

It only spoke at you or in your memory but not once did it matter.

Ink to paper became what ash is to fire

Just the remains of something really great.

So.. this is my last poem about you, I think.


See,I know that I haven’t waited you out of my system

I haven’t written you out of my veins

I know that you still crawl under my skin whenever someone else tries to touch it 

That you reside in these bones

I know that you are the air between my fingers

You are my missing rib and you always wanted to be closer to me than God

So you never really ran through my mind… Just through my jugular.
This has to be my last poem about you 

Because my notebook is a blasphemous shrine 

These pages live off the worship of pain

My words have to become something other than a build up to your name

So This is a poem about change

 This is a poem about late night peace and what 3 am feels like when you’re not afraid of the dark

What breathing sounds like when you’re not afraid of silence

And what its like to hear yourself and not think you’re someone else’s static.

This is my last poem about you

SeeI only ever wrote about 3 things: Death, you and this city because you all made me feel the same way 

And this  
This is the end of You: tear stained poetry

You: Ballpoint heartbreak

You: treasure in my shipwreck

You: one half man other half eviction letter

You: tremble in my vocals

You: Benjamin button of emotion, growing backwards on the inside

You: دعاء الكرب

You: two extra minutes of sujood

You: misery to my company

This is my last poem about you. 

Hopefully.

(AUDIO)