The Greatest Showman

Like a magician
I conjure scenes 
Where I’m walking away
Then running
From the triage of lies,

Just black tar in front of me
and behind me
And far behind
Memories of you begging to be amnesiac
Running into heavy darkness
That kind that threatens to surround you and
crush your overworked lungs

Scenes in my head
Flash between a forest, blinding the stars
Waiting for the dawn on a day the sun chooses not to rise
Sending heat and claustrophobia in its stead 

Wanting to run but not seeing where I’m going
Not seeing the way out 
Not seeing myself 
That’s the kind of darkness I’ve run into
It was the same kind that I felt when I was with you
Perhaps that’s your magic trick





Racing though a museum of broken and forgotten things

You send relics and treasures into a whirlwind that settles in slow motion with the crackingcrushingcrying sound of porcelain and innocence, glass and confidence.

You want everything

To do everything

Can’t you see

Your limbs are too clumsy to belong here

Your intentions too self interested

Can’t you see

Your hands that were once smooth like the Silk Road are choreic and calloused

Your fingers vainly searching for something to trade with

Your desires too many

Can’t you see

You’ve kicked open ancient chests of insecurities

And toppled statues of strength

You’ve annihilated all resistance in a guilt inducing siege

Your words have shattered that nostalgic silence between us. There’s no turning back. Can’t you see


Ramadan Day 19

7:28 am

I had an exam today. After a night of struggling to study and sleep, I set out for my exam and this was the sight that greeted me. In some way, this simple sunrise settled overdriven mind.

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5:19 pm

After writing, I ran. I wish I could put into words how beautiful I found the sunset that day, but nothing adequate comes to mind. It made the running worth it.

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There was a line from Surah Ar-Rahman that stayed with me the whole day.

[He is] Lord of the two sunrises and Lord of the two sunsets.

 رَبُّ الْمَشْرِقَيْنِ وَرَبُّ الْمَغْرِبَيْنِ – 55:17