Ambivert

I read your storms before your skies turned gray, I knew your silence had too much to say. Your voice would tremble, mine would quietly bend, I wore my heart like armor, lover and friend. I stayed through shadows, guessed your hidden pain, Held pieces of you through thunder and rain. Yet when my oceans rose and pulled me apart, You stood like distance, not close to my heart. Tell me, what kind of love clocks out at night? Leaves at midnight and calls that feeling right? How do you whisper “I care” then disappear, When the one who loves you is drowning in fear? I know, I know you care in ways you can, You stayed till two, till three , tried to understand. But love is not counted in rare borrowed hours, It is presence in weakness, not petals and flowers. And maybe, yes, I hid tears in my chest, Pretended my breaking deserved little rest. Maybe I never screamed, “Please, don’t you go,” Expected your heart to simply know. But darling, if I call you mine, even friend, I’d sit through the ni...

There was a time I wore a heavy soul, Where broken thoughts had quietly taken control. I was cruel to myself, yet kind to every face, Smiling for the world while losing my own place. I carried storms behind laughter in my eyes, Turned pain into silence, truth into disguise. I gave joy away while my own heart bled, Fighting endless wars inside my head. But now I’m learning sunlight can remain, That healing still exists after so much pain. I try to choose peace instead of fear, To live in the moment, to stay fully here. Yes, the past still knocks some nights uninvited, And tears still appear when old wounds are ignited. But I no longer sit there breaking apart, I gather my pieces, I soften my heart. And even with no vision of what waits for me, I trust the path Allah wrote that I cannot yet see. With all of my heart, my soul, and my mind, In Him alone, true peace I find. For I believe His plans are gentler than mine, Even the delays will make sense in time. And maybe every hardship I on...

There was a time I spoke of my dreams the way a child speaks of the stars softly, innocently, with affection in my voice.  I shared them not as a burden, not as a demand, but simply as a piece of my heart. And somewhere along the way, my dreams were misunderstood, and the very thing I had trusted with affection  was turned into something to laugh at. That laughter did not just echo in the air, it echoed inside my chest. And something fragile within me shattered quietly. My intention had been pure. My words had been gentle. But still, they were misunderstood. So slowly I learned to hold my heart back, to keep my dreams folded within my silence. Today, while standing in prayer, I spoke of those same dreams again but this time only to Allah. And suddenly I understood something. Those dreams were never meant to be carried by the world. Where my sincerity was misunderstood, Allah understood it before I even spoke. Where my heart once felt small, He made it feel seen. For I always k...

Sometimes a good heart is like a quiet candle in a loud room. It burns gently, gives warmth, and asks for nothing in return. But people often notice fireworks more than candles.  Not because the candle is less beautiful, but because the world has grown used to noise, not sincerity. A pure heart gives, listens, forgives, and stays. And because it stays, people begin to believe it will always stay. So they test it. They stretch it. Sometimes they break pieces of it… thinking it will still glow the same. And the good heart wonders: If I give so much love, why does no one hold it carefully? But the truth is, many people do not recognize the value of a gentle soul until they have already wounded it. A good heart wants to be cherished not because it is weak, but because love, by its nature, longs to be received. A river does not flow only to itself, it flows to reach the ocean. 🌊 But one day, the pure heart learns something deeper. Not through advice. Not through books. But through sile...

“Do not be hasty in praising people or blaming them, for perhaps what pleases you from a person today will displease you tomorrow, and perhaps what displeases you today, will please you tomorrow." ʿAbdullāh b. Masʿūd رضي الله عنه   [Al-Bayhaqī, Shuʿab Al-Īmān article 6177]

I'm still learning how to go back and reread my own chapters without feeling like I want to set all of my pages on fire. ~E.V Rogina

Am I what people have done to me, or what I have managed to save despite what people have done to me? Am I the mosaic of experiences or the ruins of existence? ~Sadia Hakim