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 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...

The stories that I told myself to ease the lonely ache now haunt my waking moments, the promises they break. •The phantom comfort, woven in the night, Now claws at dawn, and steals away the light. •I built a fortress, from illusions spun, But shadows creep, and battles are begun. •Each whispered 'maybe,' each imagined grace, Returns a specter, in this empty space. •The echoes of those lies, a constant, chilling sound, Where solace once resided, now only wounds are found.   •The painted smiles, the words I longed to hear, Now twist and mock me, fueled by rising fear. •My heart, a stage where fantasies once played, Now holds a theater, where truths are re-betrayed. •The warmth I sought, within my crafted dream,  Has turned to frost, a cold and bitter gleam.

I wonder how the bird whose wings were cut off looks at the sky? With rage? With regret? With grief? Despair? Love? Peace? Maybe it looks at the sky with grief , remembering what it once had. Maybe with rage , because something precious was taken. Maybe with regret , because the sky still calls but can’t be reached. Maybe with despair , realizing the distance between longing and reality. Or maybe strangely, beautifully with love , because the sky was once home. And perhaps even with peace , because after fighting and hurting and yearning, sometimes a living thing learns to rest in what is left.

Suddenly, she realised that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be. And yet, with that understanding came a strange relief. For while some futures were gone, others unwritten and unknown still awaited her. Perhaps the best chapters were not those she had imagined, but those she had yet to live.

I sat under the rain with a bee next to me  and spoke to it as if the world had run out of listeners.  Oh, bee, I searched for love the way you searched for honey, but life's troubles weigh upon my soul, just like this rain drop that weighs upon your little wings.  ~Hashem y-a.

سکون حاصل کرنا اور محبت کرنا اور وہ بھی بیک وقت؟ اسے بھول جاؤ - مرزا غالب  To have peace, and to be in love And that too, simultaneously? Forget it. -Mirza Ghalib

"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."  ~Federico Garcia Lorca

If you don't understand why somebody is grieving f or so long over something, consider yourself  fortunate that you do not understand.

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self centered. Love them anyway. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway. ~Kent M. Keith

I hated liars, their words like a stain, Yet in my own heart, I’ve played the same game. Crafting illusions, in shadows I dwell, The deepest deceit is the truth that I sell. In mirrors of doubt, I see my own face, A prisoner of lies in this familiar place. I sought out the truth, but found only strife, The greatest of lies is the one in my life.

“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

I planted the seeds of my sorrow in this forgotten and barren land. Watered with tears I couldn't swallow and blood from my weary hands. Oh the harvest that was to follow, as roses from Arabian sands tell tales of a better tomorrow, and hope in my Maker's plans. ~Suhaib Rumi

In life's tempest, we shatter like waves on stone, Yet in the abyss, we're never alone. For in the silence, in the darkest night, It's God's embrace that guides us to the light.

People were never my need Perspectives were. Hearts were. Souls were. People beyond People were. ~Sadia Hakim

"Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they've got ambition and they've got talent, as well as just beauty. I'm so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for." - Jo March, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Maybe what I'm hoping for isn't even possible to happen, but it's hope I'm living on. And I prefer to live and die hoping, than living and hoping to die. -sadia/@silllydiaries

Things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully. - Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life