What If?

I was just querying .. what if?

the phrase 'what if?' begs a lot of questions

What if I never made it to college?

what if I didn't have the friends I have today?

what if I went to a different college or chose a different course?

What if I never broke particular relationships?

would I have the relationships i have now?

what would've happened had I not burnt down these bridges?

What would my life be like if I didn't have the amazing people that I have around me 

today?

And that's pretty much my thought for today.

I'm lucky and blessed to be me

:)

Sweet Light

Your light was unruly

It longed to burn with the radiance

of a thousand stars which are birthed from the

chaos of the night

It was the rare kind of soul,

the one that had not yet learned

the rules of the earth, the world or the universe.

What we are allowed and not allowed to do.

Not taught to dim its extravagant light for the eyes of others.

Because not everyone deserves your light, not everyone can see it.

Its a special sort of light. 

One word of advice sweet light,

be fearless in the fire you have in your soul

let it take over you

Be daring in the perfection that rests in you,

you are perfection, you are you.

Its your untamed and reckless stitched-up heart 

that I love so very dearly. 

Its not easy to admit, but what I see in you 

is what I wish to see in myself

and the only way this can happen

is if you become mine

so sweet light, be the light of my day,

my month, my year and my life

for I cannot see without you. 

can I be your cigarette?

Can I be your cigarette?

so you can pull me out of a 

black dark box

so you can light me up 

when im cold

so you can keep me

on your lips

so you can inhale me

even though you know

how toxic I am

but you don't really care

cause you love the feeling

in your lungs

I want you to be 

my cigarette

I want you and no one else

keep me warm and fill my craving

Be my cigarette and I'll do nothing

but keep you in my pocket

and smoke you until you leave

Because eventually everyone leaves.

but I want to keep a hold of you 

for a little while longer

Brown Eyes

His brown eyes makes me love him,

there will never be any other guy above him

His eyes makes me miss him and,

as the days go by, all I want to do is kiss him

Its his perfect brown eyes that make me want to conquer things, 

and just to be myself, if my heart was a bookcase, this one would have his own shelf

Those eyes make me smile, 

and simply beg for what we have to stay awhile

Its those perfect brown eyes that make my heart melt,

 if I had any words, I'd tell him how I felt

His brown eyes remind me of a cool Monday morning,

He makes everyday seem less boring

Those eyes make me want to stop time, 

to just give me a moment to make him mine

His brown eyes told me his cravings, his soul

from that moment, my heart he stole 

This poem is for someone really close to my heart, and someone who I can only hope will be a 

part of my life forever, it took a while but finally I got there, this is my poem for you :) 

Loneliness in my eyes

A lonely star
Sits in the sky
It starts to flicker
and begins to cry

A lonely star
looks down on us all
It takes a step 
and starts to fall

A lonely star
Falling down
like an apple from a tree
it still wears a frown

A lonely star
laying on the ground
it looks to the moon
a home it never found

A lonely star
whose light is fading
is cold and crying
She spent her whole life waiting

A lonely star
blinks her goodbye's
her light goes out
and she slowly dies

Loving you

Loving you was wandering, 

into chaos and calling it beautiful.

Loving you was seeing things for the first time and seeing them whole;

the pain, the scars, the faults,

and knowing that they are perfect.

Loving you was loving everything that is wild and free.

Loving you was the breath before the laugh and the 

sadness in every falling tear.

Loving you was maddening, and perfect and maddeningly perfect.

Loving you. Yes you. 

Thanks for reading, this means a lot to me, your friend Zahra.

a little bit of hope and truth

Haven't got much to say other than, I truly believe that in our society, everything is about how we dress etc, and that is wrong. Fundamentally wrong.

If we ever, just for a second, met somebody through personalities than through looks first, we would all be happier in ourselves than we are today.

Did you know that children in England are the unhappiest children in the whole world? What does that say for today's society?

All of this is just wrong, there needs to be action to fix this.  And even speaking about it through blogs, twitter posts or any social media will help get children out of this.  

what anxiety feels like // I am an oxymoron

Sometimes I suppose I'm happy

Like when I'm with my friends

Throwing my head back with laughter,

But then the day turns to night

And my carefree grin turns into

An unexplainable sadness

Etched on my face like a tattoo.

And I lay in bed

Thinking of all the things

I wish I could say

All the things I'm afraid to admit,

It's nights like these when I realize

I am many things

I am happy and sad

Outgoing and shy

Rambunctious and quiet

But mostly I'm just empty. 

Poem by Steven Chbosky

Background of the poem: this is a poem written by the character Michael from the book 'Perks of Being a Wallflower' by Steven Chbosky.  This was considered to be a hint that Michael gave to his best friend Charlie about him thinking about suicide.  At the time, was completely metaphorical but turns into what happens.      

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much make-up

That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.” 

I just found this poem, although the meaning behind it is brutal, shows a real sense as to what a lot of young children are feeling like when they start to reach an age where they aren't appreciated by their parents as much.  I believe this is a very real poem, and I'll never really know why, but I felt very connected to it.  

Thanks for reading :)