The empty half of the glass is the real one – a poem.
Tag Archives: depressed
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Centipede I of V.
آه
قضيت وقتي كله أتساءل إن كان بإمكان المرء أن يسير خلال الحياة وحيدًا بلا أهل ولا رفقاء؛ تساءلتُ فقط كي أواسي ذاتي وأشعرها بأنّنا بخير، وبأنّ هجرَنا جميعَ من أحبَبْنا قبل أن يهجرونا كان وسيظل أكثرَ قراراتِنا حِكمة… ورمَت الحياة الإجابة في وجهي فور ملاحظتها أنني جزءٌ منها، مخبرةً إياي أنّ الشوائب لا مكان لها، …
Robbed
Of joy, of kindness, and laughter. Of meaning and of hope. Of my voice, and of my shape. A floating cloud fleetingly drowns the earth. I run and yell but I’m a shadow A tiny dot rolling down the meadow. Seeing things from above makes a huge difference. But Noah doesn’t know my name; I’ve …
Presence
The sound of the leaves Outside the window. The empty, closed, Quiet room. The echoing, unanswered yelling, Towards the end of the house. The unnoticed absence At the dinner table. The unheard voice Of the forgotten. Are your presence. Art credits: Avogado 6.
Douleurs
(d’esprit) She laughed, and I noticed for the first time that her right front tooth was slightly chapped at the middle. It was too small that you had to look hard to see it, and maybe that was why I was just noticing it even after all the staring I’ve been doing on her face. …
SingulariT 