Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same.
They call us now.
Before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
“This is David.”
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think “Do I know any Davids in Gaza?”
They call us now to say
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of war time courtesy.
It doesn’t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
We aren’t trying to kill you.
It doesn’t matter that
you can’t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren’t in your house
that there’s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn’t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
It doesn’t matter
that 58 seconds isn’t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son’s favorite blanket
or your daughter’s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn’t matter what you had planned.
It doesn’t matter who you are
Prove you’re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
What’s the worst thing I’ve stolen? Probably little pieces of other people’s lives. Where I’ve either wasted their time or hurt them in some way. That’s the worst thing you can steal, the time of other people. You just can’t get that back.
Before you can live a part of you has to die. You have to let go of what could have been, how you should have acted and what you wish you would have said differently. You have to accept that you can’t change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or yours. When you finally recognize that truth then you will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of yourself and others. From this point you will finally be free.
Your brain is wired for survival, not happiness. That is why it keeps bringing up negative emotions, past mistakes and worries about the future. Because of this wiring, you can get stuck in repetitive cycles of self-criticism, worry and fear that interfere with your ability to enjoy the present moment.
astronomers got tired after watching the moon go around the earth for 24 hours so they decided to call it a day
We all are born with ribcages of different sizes, but it’s the space within it that counts the most. How big is your heart? Can you hear an echo dance off the walls of that ribcage whenever your most prized organ pumps? Can you hear your bones rattle more loudly than those belonging to other people? If so, be kind. Be ever so kind, and watch the size of your heart grow.
Nobody likes to hear something repeated back to them. In fact, it’s almost like an insult. Do you really want your body to hear a repetitive echo within the walls of your chest, all because you chose to keep your heart smaller than the fist you use far too often? Do you really want your bones to grow lonely because they don’t have a heart large enough to embrace?
I’ll say it again: be kind. You have nothing to lose, except an ego that shouldn’t be quite as large as you’ve allowed it to become.
writing is hard, especially when you want to channel your emotions, but you don’t know exactly how you feel
I walk into a poem and walk out someone else.
The sadness in my
flows proudly. She will
not conceal how her
heart aches for the land
on which she cannot walk.
She speaks of how
flowers would grow
without fear of being
pierced by shrapnel, or
choked by grey smoke,
or trampled by cold steel.
She speaks of a
home that once was,
to exist today.
going back to school after a break is like when you pause a video game to go pee and when you come back you forget how intense and chaotic everything was when you paused it and the second you unpause it all your enemies collectively punch you in the face
Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow; but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
Ming D. Liu, A Story A Day #138
I won’t beg someone to love me. I learned long ago that there is no use in hopeless pleas of trying to make someone stay. I am too good to chase someone who does not know my worth and I am too wild to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t acknowledge my value. I want to be loved unconditionally. I shouldn’t have to fight so hard for it. I do not have the time to prove to someone that I am worth it. I shouldn’t have to prove any of that; I am worth more than that.