If you ask me,
How are you doing?
I’ll smile,
Tuck the truth behind my teeth,
and say
“I’m fine.”
But if you pause,
look me in the eyes,
and ask again,
“No, how are you really doing?”
I might just tell you…
I’m tired
of living in a world where my worth
is measured in paychecks and productivity.
Where rest feels like guilt,
and ambition, a cage with velvet lining.
I am overwhelmed.
Buried in deadlines,
chasing dreams that leave blisters on my feet,
because I know what I want for my life
and I know it won’t come cheap.

Love?
I flinch at the thought.
Not because I haven’t loved,
but because I’ve inherited the heartbreak
of women who taught me to be cautious,
to hold back,
to never let it all in.
I keep my guard up
steel walls around a soft heart.
And truthfully?
I’m exhausted from the weight of my own armor.
But letting it down feels
too risky.
Too unsafe.
Sometimes,
I sit with the bitterness
of how much I give,
and how little I get in return.
And I wonder,
Is this what “hard work pays off” looks like?
I lie.
To others.
To myself.
I say I’m open,
say I’m healed,
say I’m ready
when love still terrifies me.
I’ve broken down this year
not once,
not twice,
but in silent nights
when nobody was watching.

And I hate that I question people’s motives,
not because I want to doubt them,
but because I have to.
Because trust is no longer my first language.
So yes…
You might ask, “How are you?”
And I’ll still smile.
Still nod.
Still say,
“I’m fine.”
Not because I am
But because,
honestly,
I don’t even know where to start.

In English, they say I love you.
But in poetry
I say:

I tried to imagine a life without you,
and my heart didn’t break at the thought
it simply refused
to build a world
where you and I do not exist.

I could walk the lush skin of greenery,
barefoot on the breath of flower filled garden
knowing you are somewhere
safe,
loved,
smiling
at the sound of your name
called out by a stranger
who isn’t me.

I would still smile.
Because you are breathing,
because you are held
perhaps under arms more suited
to your rhythm,
your values,
your laughter that hides in dry jokes,
your silliness
that someone else will call adorable.

Loving you?
means giving you away
to the life you were meant to have,
even if mine is not written in your pages.

We were almost,
could-have-beens
stitched by longing
but unraveled by trust
because the Almighty is the best of planners,
and I, only human
learning to love
without holding.


Bellah.

When love knocks,
it’s not from the deadbeat of your pain-stricken heart,
nor the dread of laughter you dare not experience.
It does not come from the agony of the past.

When love visits,
it comes like a wave of fresh air
a relief from your previous anguish.
Love arrives and consumes you whole.
Ready or not, you’ll feel it deep in your bones.

You’ll feel the goosebumps
and this time, not from your anxiety,
but as a gentle reminder telling you to breathe.

When it finally arrives,
it engloves you in a garden.
It waters your dying soul
until it blooms into a canvas of colorful flowers.

And this time,
love comes with certainty
no second-guessing,
just reassurance in its fullest form.

When love knocks,
I pray you’re able to see it.
no longer waiting,
no longer biased
just you,
allowing yourself to fall under its gaze.

When love visits,
I pray you’re prepared for it.

Chivalry Never Dies (Or So They Say)

Chivalry, they said, would never die,
Yet I, the savior of the deceased, know why.
Once alive, vibrant, and whole,
He held the weight of my faltering soul.

We laughed, we bantered, we shared the days,
He soothed my doubts and cleared my haze.
In times of anguish, he'd always appear,
A steadfast presence to quiet my fear.

But I was blind, so lost in my needs,
I never noticed his silent pleas.
He gave and gave till he was no more,
A shadow walking, his spirit sore.

A living carcass, drained and spent,
Yet never a word of his discontent.
I saw him crumble, day by day,
A residue of light that faded away.

I tried to mend, I tried to care,
But his burden grew too great to bear.
So I closed the door to what once was,
To save myself from breaking because—

Though he returned, his light renewed,
I know his glow will soon subdue.
For this Chivalry is long since gone,
A fleeting star before the dawn.

"See you on the other side," I sigh,
For even legends must say goodbye.

Dear future husband,
It's with a great sense of urgency I write into the future.
Loving me won't be easy
Hailing from a broken home has taught me how love can be a double edge sword.
Therefore, I argue and talk back
I over think and analyse scenarios beyond imagination
I make up arguments before it even happens
I am an overthinker by default
Don't let this scare you.

Dear future husband,  
I'd want you to know I am a hopeless romantic with a wall as high as wall of China
But those can easily fall as that of jericho
With you, I'd want a love as white as snow on Christmas
I'd want a never ending friendship as the waters of Niagara falls.
I promise to never stop fighting my inner demons and insecurities
As long as you assure me how we are partners in this ship of ours

Dear future husband,  
It's with utmost sincerity that I write to you on this day, because I know I'm finally ready.
I have always hidden in my coven
I await your presence,
And would be welcoming you with open arms when we get to meet
So future habiby, what's the wait for?
I'm sure your ribs must ache enough from a missing piece.

Bellah…

Hey dearest Girl friend, you're more than meets the eye.
There's more to you than the world see and only you can feel
You are more than the current moment, may be  stuck, but not for too long

You're fierce and engaging
A lioness in her own den, you are predictive and predetermined
A conquer, you have fought so many battles, Zues would be jealous

Going from house to house, you have served!
Moving from office to office, you have worked!
From one business to the other, you have thrived!
From street to street,  you have hawked!

You move mountains with determination
Your mere presence sets them on fire
You are a woman first,
A sister
Sometimes you're a wife but above all,
You are a mother.

You are the best work of art God created to multitask
A Russian-roulette any man would **** to be victorious for.

You are a reason for inspiring inclusion.
Happy International Women's Day Queen!

Bellah

I hate to say this, but I miss you
On days when I’m angry at you
I recount every memory of you
I miss you on the saddest days and even the most delightful ones

I hate to say this, but I love you
I’ve loved your fairly flaws and even resented myself for loving you
I loved you from the very beginning, I bet I’d do till the end
I love you like molt to holes
I guess, I love every curve of you

Permit me to say this, but I hate you
I hate the way you make me smile
How you get to my skin
I hate how your voice brightens up my day
I hate the ease I feel when talking to you in distress
I hate how I feel when you call me nick names
Gosh! I love them all!
I guess, I called for a white lie

I miss you as my person
I miss the fact that it was just the two of us
I hate I have to share you…
Not you, but the concept of you
I guess I hate myself more for harboring these thoughts I do
But in the end, all these conflicting emotions…
I just miss you.

@Bellah