waking up with tears on ur face means the agony didn't just ruin ur day — it snuck into ur dreams too
u thought closing ur eyes was the 'end' button for that rough day, but ur memory had a special show waiting for u in ur sleep
u ran from reality to get some rest, but ur sleep tortured u and replayed the whole scene.
when u wake up, it hits u, ur sadness wasn't a dream; your dream was just part of ur sadness
reality stole ur peace of mind while awake, and dreams stole your peace while asleep
u wake up twice as heavy — once from what happened, and once cuz u realized there's no safe place to hide, even in ur own head. the worst part isn't what happened; it's feeling like ur soul never slept
it was fighting a losing battle with the same ghost u tried to forget
u're stuck in the middle, exhausted, finding no rest in consciousness or in checking out
it's like even ur pillow isn't neutral anymore

- وأن اغراكَ تكاثُر النِساء حَولكَ ، ماهُنَ إِلا لؤلؤ مِن عِقد خِلخالي.
and if the abundance of women around u tempts u
they are nothing but pearls from the string of my anklet

أبصِر مَقامكَ قَبل أن تَتيهَ فِي الزُحام، فمَا خُلِقَ لقلبِي شَريكٌ ولا لِمَكانتِي بَديل
وإن أغراكَ تكاثُر النِساء حَولكَ، وتَراقصت أمام عيَنيكَ الأطياف، فَماهُنَّ إلا لؤلؤٌ مَنثورٌ سَقط سَهواً مِن عِقد خِلخالي
يَجمعنَ مَا تَبقى مِن فَيضِ نُوري، ويَتزيّنَ بِظلالِ حُضوري
أنَا لستُ امرأةً تُقاس بِالعدد، ولا نَجماً يَأفلُ إذا طَلع الفَجر
أنا الأثرُ الباقِي حِين يَمضي الجَميع، والقصيدةُ الأُولى والمَرجعُ الأخِير.
كُلهنَّ عابراتٌ مَررنَ بِأرضِكَ كالسَّحاب، وأنا المَطرُ الّذي أحيا جَفاف قَلبكَ فَلا تَنبُت بَعدي إلا الخَيبات.

when the present weighs u down to point where u wish to leave tonight
escaping from a future u cant bear

to reach apoint of exhaustion where all grand hopes melt away
leaving uwith only one faint
urgent plea that ur story ends tonight
that ur pulse stops and ur memory fades before tomorrow knocks
before the sun rises on a new day forcing u to bear the same disappointments and face the same hardships.its the sincere wish that the curtain falls now
without crossing into a future u lack the strength to live
so that tonight may be the definitive end to a story whose details have grown weary

why do they all think i'm lowkey a machine with no feelings like why is it so easy for them to wreck me and just walk away over my pieces as if i don't even matter
do they really think that just bc i'm a poor obscure ordinary little girl i don't have a heart or a soul to feel pain like why does everyone take my silence as if i'm totally numb they don't see how much i'm burning inside or how many battles i gotta fight alone every single night just to act fine the next day
i'm not a stone or some random object they can just trash and i'm not just someone with no shadow for them to step on my pride being small doesn't mean my wounds don't hurt and being poor doesn't mean i don't feel things and my mystery isn't dryness it's just my shield to hide from their toxicity i feel every single letdown and every judgment stabs my heart and every harsh word hurts so bad
it sucks so much to be treated like nothing like a broken toy it's like they don't even realize that behind this ordinary face there's a soul dying every second while trying to hold it together i got more feelings than this whole world and my heart can hold so much love and pain so why do they keep breaking me like i got no soul why do they take my silence as a pass to keep hurting me
i am "Not a machine" i'm a human being with real feelings and i got a pride that weighs a mountain and my soul is too pure for them to ruin even if they keep trying to break me down
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عِندما تَنظُرُ فِي عَينِ الشمسِ بِدَاخِلِكَ،وتَرَى أَن كُل خَدِيعَةٍ تَترُكُ خَلفَهَا نَفياً مُؤَبداً لِلرُوح، أَيُ مَهرَبٍ لَكَ مِن نَفسِكَ حِينَ تَنطَفِئُ المَصَابِيح؟عِندما تَشرَبُ خَيبَةَ الوُقُوعِ فِي شِبَاكِ أَوهَامِك،، وتَرتَطِمُ بِالأَرضِ بَعدَ أن هَوَت قُصُورُكَ المَشِيدَةُ فِي الهَوَاء، هَل سَتُدرِكُ أَن الظِلَ لَا يَختَفِي، بَلْ يَنتَظِرُ الحَقِيقَةَ لِيَبتَلِعَكَ؟

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what did we gain from having a beating heartwhat did we get from a mind that thinks in a world of losswas not the eternal sleep in nothingnessfar more merciful than this

what if nothingness was more merciful than existence
i was a calm nothing
i did not know the meaning of waiting
i did not know the heavy weight of disappointment
i never tasted the bitterness of loss
then i was born
so i had to learn how a human carries a breaking heart
i had to learn how to live with a mind that never stops questioning
i had to carry a soul that life exhausts every single day
and as soon as i got used to the pain
i was told that the end is just a return to nothingness
so what did i ever gain between these two voids
what did i gain other than endless tiredness
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لو كان الغياب يقللُ من المحبة، لما كان الحي يبكي على الميِت.
كم من غائبٍ تحت الثُرى، تنبضُ لهُ العروقُ شوقاً، وتفيضُ لهُ العينُ بدموعٍ كالمطر
فالمسافات لا تقتل الهوى، والتراب لا يُواري صدق الوفاء.

تموت الأجساد، وتجف الألسن، وتذبلُ الوجوه، لكنَ الحب في حنايا الروح يظلُ حياً لا يموت.

يؤلمُني الإبتعادَ عنكَ
ولا أستطيعُ الإقتراب منكَ
فقُل لي أيَ الألمينِ أخف؟

يقولك الشاعر تُهت في بحور عيونها واخبرت قلبي ان لايعوم فيغرق مالي في عيونها تائهُاً كطفل في الجنه تائه