That globe of yours is
spinning at a thousand miles
per hour, and if you’re not
too careful, you may fall right
off its sharpened edge.
Steady your course.
Breathe out as deeply as
you breathe in. Allow your
knees time to stop shuddering
under the weight of such
The heaviness will pass.
It always does.
Tell me I’m not the only one tearing my hair out in a frantic frenzy, trying to make sense of these thoughts. Is there anyone else out there? The moment my head hits the pillow, dangerous notions begin talking incessantly. I drift off to sleep, only because my mind is too talkative to hear out. Is that insanity I see, approaching faster than the first few rays of dawn? I think so. The longer I let my anxieties speak to me, the more open my arms are for a madness that I probably shouldn’t let in.
Noor Shirazie, The night speaks.
The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tries to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
ask about the wolf in my chest.
or how i have been staring at the window
for the last eight hours trying to write about
how you make me hate myself
for loving you so much.
ask why my fingers are always cold
but my heart is always burning up.
inquire why my chest is sucking up all the flames
just for them to be spit out of my mouth when you leave.
ask me why i never told you i was a dragon.
let me howl for you,
let me show you my insides.
don’t be scared because the wild thing in me hates
the indifferent thing in you. don’t tremble because
i’m unforgiving when i’m hungry.
ask me if i miss you,
or how long it’s been since i thought of you.
let me tell you that there’s a monster in my body
that loves you.
let me tell you i am thinking about you now,
and it just won’t go away.
I long for you
the way an empty home
longs for company,
I fill myself with dust
and wait for ghosts to leave
their fingerprints behind.
Don’t fight your demons. Your demons are here to teach you lessons. Sit down with your demons and have a drink and a chat and learn their names and talk about the burns on their fingers and scratches on their ankles. Some of them are very nice.
To pretend that someone
never existed means also
shunning the fragments
of laughter that pierced
through your icy exterior
and warmed you from within.
It means ignoring the times
they watched over you like
a lighthouse atop an unseen
hill, caught in the fog of early
morning. Do not negate joy
with resentment, or affection
with aggression. Carry the
reasons for leaving in your
satchel, but don’t leave a
lengthy trail of hatred
behind each footstep.
Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but ‘steal’ some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.