Saudis under the Mask

I still feel you. You're everywhere. You're in every rainy day, every sad song. You're every cloudy sky and every book I read. You're every green eye I meet. You're presence still lingers around me. I have not forgotten. Your lemon perfume next to my bed still. I feel you even when your six feet under. You know I envy the ground that wraps your body. I hear your laughter sometimes, in other people you live on. I hate getting attached because I can't risk being ripped off like a band-aid again. So sudden, so quick. Gone. I still spray your perfume when I can't remember how your hugs were like. A lemony scent fills the air, and I remember what it was like to be enveloped in one of your hugs. I can't sleep at night, most nights. I drizzle your perfume on my pillow. I'm doing just fine. Pieces of you live on with me forever. I will always remember your every detail, even after I burned the pictures. Blonde hair falling right into place like a crown, fram

Nobody listens. Nobody cares. And nobody understands. Years of pain and suffering have plagued my memory. I'm constantly screaming and crying for help, yet my voice still goes unheard. Tormented by the ghost of my past, tortured by my excruciating childhood. I am a pain magnet, I attract the worst of the worst into my life. You'd think I would've learned by now, but I didn't. I can't stop myself. I used to wake up every morning terrified of what the day will bring on, of where I'd see you haunting me next. But now I'm used to seeing you in everyone and everything. My life is a constant series of fake smiles and forced laughs in order to convince you that I'm okay. I'M OKAY! I'm fine. I'M FINE! I can be very good at convincing you I'm okay, you didn't even know I was crying myself to sleep every night. I'm so very far from fine. I'm screaming. Can't you hear me? Do you not hear my screams? How can you not hear me screaming?

صوت يرن في أذني وكأنه صوت نقار الخشب. يزعجني عندما أسمعه ولكنه يعالجني، يفرغ قلبي مما أكبحه فيه من غضب ومشاعر كثيرة في دوامة الغضب. لا يسألني أحد عن السبب الذي جبرني على الصراخ، ولا أحد يواسيني ويبدل غضبي بفرح ويحول مشاعري إلى شيء يجعل مبسمي يشق وجهي. بدأت أحس وكأنني منبوذة بين البشر. ليس هناك من يكترث لحالي، ليس هناك من يداويني قبل أن أصرخ وأخرج ما تراكم من رماد المشاعر في قلبي. قد يضحك البعض ويقول هو صوت مزعج، كيف أصبح دواء؟ بالنسبة لي، الصرخة كأنها ممسحة زجاج تلطخ ببصمات الناس فأزالها حتى أصبح أثرها لا يُرى. أصبح الصراخ صديقي الصدوق في حياتي، هو ما يواسيني، هو من يعالجني في حين يجرحني غيري وليس بوسعي أن أمنعهم، هو السبب الذي يجعلني ابتسم.

As I grasp onto the remnants of my sanity, my thoughts stumble to the pits of emptiness, cascading down the river of oblivion. I lose myself to the demons of sorrow and lose my words to madness altogether. I scream until I have no voice remaining, and I scream myself to nothingness.

The fruits of evergreens are fragrant, and so is the whiff of warm vanilla. I am neither; I am a woman, my love; I smell like independence, knowledge, and willpower. I smell like the sunset after a long day. My love― my fragrance is the break of dawn, declaring new hope. My fragrance is light.

The one that got away. I’m looking for you, wondering if you still can’t express what you feel like you used to feel. Still looking for depth in everything; hungry for answers. It’s okay if you’re still the same. Do you want a glimpse of the future? What are you like, now? I look at you, but can’t recognize you. Yes, you, the old you— it makes me want to scream.

A scream A piercing cry you hear from the strong And from the weak You,  The coward And the brave; fear doesn’t distinguish between those things, for it comes at different degrees. Thus, fearless doesn’t exist but less fear does. Less fear  To the point of not feeling, or fearing it I guess you can call that fearless but the coward still stands next to the brave in the single entity we call a soul an oxymoron a paradox of this very world. so, scream. And let the world know you are afraid But not conquered by fear.

He was about to leave her when she choked the remaining words out of her sore throat: “Lie to me, give me any false hope to hold on to. Tell me that you’ll always..” “I’m sorry” he walked out without turning back. This time she didn’t look for a seed of hope in the seas of dead flowers, she didn’t stay until dawn looking for the faint arrays of the sun shine knowing that she hadn’t seen it for years. Instead, she silenced her innocent soul and locked herself up in the most dreadful part of her, lit some fire and only gazed as it attacked everything it touched. Someone from the outside, an old friend it seems, sensed the danger within her walls. He broke down the front door as furious black smoke stretched right towards him. He ducked running to the source, he screamed her name, he looked for her in every room until he finally arrived at a locked door. On the other side, she had crumbled up in the corner and started feeling the numbness of everything and nothing at the same time. He

- الرياض - الأربعاء – 8 نوڤمبر 2017 – الساعة 11:57م. على بعد مئات الكيلومترات، يتوسد جسدك تربة الكوت. إلى أغلى من فقدت، أشتاقك جداً. أما بعد، أريد أن أخبرك بأمر لم أطلع شخصاً عليه قط، إلا أني أظن أن من حولي يعلمون به؛ كيفية التعامل مع غيابك – روح أبكى الجدران رحيلها. في أول عامٍ بعد رحيلك يا جدي، اشتاقت حواسي كلها للشعور بك؛ سماع صوتك، رؤية ابتسامتك، تذوق قبلةٍ على جبينك و أخرى على يدك التي بدت آثار السنوات في تجاعيدها، و الضياع في حضنك. افتقدت حواسي وجود روحك يا جدي، و لم يبدو أنه بوسع أي شيء في الكون أن يعوضها أو يشبع شوقي، فالصور على سبيل المثال جامدة، و لا تكفي. المهلبية -أمرُ مضحك- أنها ما قادتني إلى أقرب شيءٍ لك؛ ماء الورد. بنكهتها العطرة، استطاعت أن تحيي جزءاً من ذاكرتي كدت أن أنساه، و كأنها حلقة الوصل المفقودة بيني و بينك. رائحة الورد يا جدي، عطرٌ لا يليق إلا بك. حين أستنشق رائحتها، أتذكر تقبيل جبينك، فتزداد شدة الرائحة حين يقترب أنفي من غترتك البيضاء التي لطالما اعتمدت "دهن الورد الاسطنبولي" طيبها الوحيد، فأعلق على زكاء الرائحة و تكحل مبصري بابتسامتك الخجو

A void in my chest brings me so much misery – A feeling that only a scream could heal. A scream is no more than a loud voice coming out of you – to fill you. When words fail and cries no longer feel useful, scream. A scream, comes out as a sound so loud. A scream, is a collection of emotions and words that are hidden too deep within. To let out a scream is to rid thyself of all tension of all sorrow of all fear and of all hatred. To let out a scream is to allow thyself to find serenity to find happiness to find peace and to find love again. To scream is to fill the void in your chest and to be back at rest to be the person you have always been except now with greater maturity, and undefeated. To scream, is to renew your strength.

Heartbeats scream like phantoms The rattling of brittle ribcage bones Find me slow dancing with the void on weekends The ghosts watch us Our shadows merge as one Oh, don’t visit the graveyard Kindness is buried in a coffin six feet under The werewolves don’t howl at luna The moon is creaking like door And she’s trying to leave unnoticed But all the stars threaten to turn into candles And all candles melt into dull yellow wax The darkness is skating in the sky Begging me to use it like a blanket Seek comfort in scarecrows with broomstick bristle hair I nestle amidst the haystacks Won’t the hayride take me to heaven?