Yusra Badr's Blog

Something is lurking in the background. A tangible shadow of sorts; one that breathes, one whose heartbeats echo.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It’s alive.

But barely.

The thuds are not rhythmical; they are sporadic, leaving you weary and apprehensive of when they will thud again, hoping that they won’t, but wanting them to.

Confusing you.

Thud. Thud.

The breathing is harder, its unevenness daunting, its tickles when it meets your skin disturbing, unnerving.

It’s alive, but barely.

You feel compassion towards this formless being; empathy.

You wish it health, you hope its thuds find a rhythm, its breathing deepen and come to life.

It’s broken.

And you’re broken.

And you wish everything that is ever this broken will heal, no matter how sinister it may be.

Illusive and omnipresent;

Always there, but never.

You sense my presence only

By what you cannot endeavor.

Your dreams are mine for the making,

Your hopes, mine to shatter.

Your secrets are my keeping

And your fears are all that matter.

You can’t see me, can’t hear me,

But you know I’m always here,

Watching, waiting,

Always ready to interfere.

Illusive and omnipresent

Is what I will always be,

You can never will me away

And you can never hide from me.

Awaken. 

Breathe as though you were suffocating. 

Awaken. 

Inhale breaths of fire, 

Choke on the dust of apathy, 

Of conditioning, 

Of desire. 

Awaken. 

Step outside yourself 

By diving into yourself 

And liberating. 

Rattle the chains that hold you captive; 

The needs that are not needs, 

The joys that are not yours, 

The norms that you have formed. 

Awaken. 

The truth is not yours to keep, 

It’s there, 

It’s clear, 

Untainted by the fear you think you own; 

The fear you think you are entitled to. 

Time heals nothing, 

And this shall not pass 

Unless you do. 

Awaken. 

Breathe as though you were suffocating 

Because you are 

And you shouldn’t be 

And it’s all in your clumsy hands, 

Your burdened heart, 

Your restless mind, 

All fast asleep in your fears;

The fears that are not there, 

That you think you are entitled to. 

Awaken. 

Shameless. 

Fearless. 

You heal. 

I bare my soul tonight

And every night until I die;

I’ve got nothing to hide.

I have no fears of my own;

My fears lie in the unknowns

That lurk away from sight.

All the things that don’t matter

That we talk about for hours

And the things that do

That we never do.

It’s not my secrets that I fear,

But yours.

It’s not your dreams that will shatter,

But mine.

And I am never too far,

Never out of reach,

Unlike you and your selective ways.

And your unknowns that lurk out of sight.

All the things that don’t matter

That we talk about for hours

And the things that do

That we never do.

We will go where you will lead us,

Be it up or to the depths of hell,

Or maybe somewhere in between

Where I have always been.

Unseen. Unclean.

Just another picture frame

Sitting on the mantle of forgottens.

Just another walk of shame

Down this familiar road of almosts.

That I have often trodden.

All the things that don’t matter

That we talked about for hours

And the things that did

That we never did.

That we never did.

I can’t bare the idea of going

To bed early anymore.

I simply must be way too tired

To think, or feel, or deplore.

I’m sleepy and my head is spinning,

Around and around and around again,

Yet the words still find their way to my head,

Even though it’s 3 a.m.

The past and the future

Are made of memories and fears.

Nostalgia is a liar,

But your memories are real.

The good ones, the bad ones

And the ones you simply abhor;

The ones that find their way to you

Albeit you want to think of them no more.

And these are the ones that creep up on you

When you attempt to call it a night.

‘Haha!’ They laugh and ridicule me

As sleep puts up its fight.

But the future, oh, the future,

And the fear that it brings to

Is crippling and unbounded;

And together, they consume you.

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​Because it feels like you’re not saying these words to me. 

Because I’m wondering what you will want to change about me. 

Because I can’t bear the thought of having to tell you all my history. 

Because I know you will not love me for who I really am, and I refuse to be loved for being anyone else. 

Because endings are bitter, and inevitable, even though beginnings are sweet. 

Because I have no will, desire or energy to change for you. 

Because I scare you, and because that fear will one day turn into loathing, and I won’t wait for that to happen. 

#SheSaid 

I don’t know what to call this thing I have for you. I can’t find a word to fully describe it. There is a plethora of them; a mayhem of sorts. They surge and they collide until they form a chaos of adjectives that I sometimes do not understand.

You inspire me, and you tire me. You are irresistible and fearful and irresistible once again. You leave me in awe, and with apprehension. I want to kiss you and I want to shun you at the same time.

This mesmerising power you have over my senses is hateful. It’s beautifully hateful and it smalls me and diminishes me into dust. I hate it, and I love it. I hate you and I love you, and you scare me because you make me feel lost and confused, yet loved and enthused.

I hang on your every word like a child desperate for attention, and I analyse and scrutinise everything you say in futile attempts to stop feeling so enthralled by everything that you are. But I find myself sinking deeper and deeper into this alluring abyss of infatuation with your every thought.

Leave. Leave me alone; I don’t have the energy nor the health needed to keep up with this constant eruption of contraries. I am lost with you, and I will be lost without you, but at least then, I will not feel like crawling out of my skin just to see your smile.

Damn you. I love you. And damn you because I love you. And damn you for no reason at all.

#HeSaid

Mesmerized by the brilliant skies, they stepped out of their comfort zones to gaze at the horizon that beckoned them so irresistibly. Drenched in spectrums of red, the skyline lured them closer and closer into its enchanting glory, distorting their conviction that it was unreachable; intangible.

The sky was now within reach; it became a manifestation that could be felt with closed eyes, something that could be touched, that could be bitten into and swallowed, that could be smelled and heard even when it could not be seen.

And nothing was impossible any longer.

Euphoric at the thought, they stepped even farther into the red abyss, abandoning their familiarities and ascended into this new reality that promised hopes beyond their most farfetched fantasies.

The velvety sensations of the dying light caressed their skin like warmth on a cold, cruel winter day. They welcomed it with the relish of a carefree child in a field of daisies, raising their heads and spreading their arms to embrace this unconditional love that has been long overdue.

—

There were no screams. There was no pain.

There was only a dispersion of selves; a vaporization of realities, of flesh and blood, of human form. They became one with the brilliant, enchanting sky and their existence simply ceased.

As more bodies were diffused and consumed by the horizon, its spectrums of red deepened and intensified, making it more luring than ever, more irresistible than ever.

And as the most reluctant eventually came out to greet it, thinking it was the gateway to Eden, the velvet, blackhole dying sun amplified exponentially, until it swallowed humanity whole.

Artwork by Sarah El-Khodary

Filed under: Fiction, Moments

It’s that familiar melancholy once again. 

It’s not good, and it’s not bad, 

Not happy and not sad; 

Just the need 

For that bleed 

Of my pen.

No epiphanies, 

No regrets, 

No triumphs 

And no threats. 

Just a distant, fading reminiscence

Of shallowed, numbed pain, 

Of a struggle once with restraint 

And its eternal despair stains 

On my entire existence.

I’ll let it flow 

So it may go 

Where melancholies go to die. 

Until once more 

It swallows me whole 

And once again leaves me dry.

Oh, sweet melancholy, 

Please, let me be.

‪#‎Poetry‬ ‪#‎Poem