rooftops are where you forgot about me.
you were up so high—
you didn't think to look down at my face.
while you were on rooftops,
i was kneeling on the ground,
wondering when you'd return.
but you simply glanced over the precipice,
knowing full well, that
you were never coming back.

Does my heart hurt?
Or simply my pride?

I honestly thought,
that you were the right guy.

Sure, you talk a lot.
But you have a lot to say.

And you saw the sorrow,
that I tried not to display.

Yet you trust fact and science,
more than you could ever trust God.

You completely allured me:
achievements and flaws.

Was I just one of many options,
that you cast to the side?

Perhaps you were an iceberg I steered clear of...
but how exciting would it have been




to collide?

there’s something hard in my heart.
could it be a tumor? a mass?
no, it’s worse than that.
it’s doubt.

all-consuming, destructive doubt,
that eats away at my sternum and ribs,
disorienting me at every chance it gets.

doubt catches me in the undertow,
and throws me every which way,
until I ask myself:
"why did I want to swim in the first place?"

You Talk, i listen.
That’s the way this works.

You ramble and You monologue,
while i keep my lips pursed.

i wonder if You’ll notice,
i haven’t said a word..

But you simply entertain Yourself,
and i remain unheard.

People tell me to live like every day is my last.

But that’s not what life is for.
Life is for believing. Believing that you will have tomorrow.
Believing that tomorrow isn’t just a prospect, but an imminence.

I can picture every horrible scenario, every improbable tragedy:
Car crash, heart attack, kidnapping—
But if I’m always wondering if I’ll meet my death tomorrow,
I’m not living at all.

Life is slow and arduous and not everyday is extraordinary.
Most days are forgotten.

But the ones that aren’t…
the days that you’ll think about when you’re really dying,
they only have value because they’re numbered.

And even though we spend our lives reflecting on
and recording those sensational memories,
I’m grateful for every useless day and hour and minute I had.

Because I love living like every day is not my last.

forever grateful for you and every little thing that you do.
kindness shapes every little part of you—
makes your heart malleable,
like the dough kneaded by ami
to make me her crispy wale parathas
every day when i wake up at zohr time,
when the world has already started for everyone.

but for me—
the world drops dead when you close your eyes,
and the universe becomes tangible
only when you open them.
at the same time as me.

your voice,
woven in gossamer threads,
wraps me into a cocoon
and then slowly, slowly unwraps me
until i’m a blue morpho butterfly
on her desk,
with a 10-hour mark on her baby pink timer—
matching his white one.

make sure you do one thing at least a day:
either the pre-med questions
or the anki flashcards.

i agree.
we’ll make the chat too spicy in discord—
with firing neurons,
and “i’m so proud of you”s,
and w’s.

i’ll make sure you understand the concept of resonance energy
by making you feel it.

so when i am electrocuted by the d key,
the numbness in my hand
turns into this debilitating blue numbness
in my baby’s malleable, precious heart—
and then we fix it.

together.
with all the scotch tapes
and the double-sided ones,
and the cardboard pieces from your drawers—
piece by piece.

a 4-hour call;
of crocheting,
moving in and out
of the seams of us.

we really did become a mosaic
of all the people that we love.
maybe talking about the teachers
in your khala's school,
knitting sweaters in the kitchen
for their loved ones—
made you feel like you could do anything.

resonance energy.
you carry the same energy
of all the people in your stories—
and with your gossamer threads
pull me back inside the cocoon
when you miss me
(when i miss you)
and fall back to sleep, holding me.

so close—
we're not even a heartbeat away now.

love,
i will find a way back to you in my dreams—
where you are in my lap,
and nothing has ever hurt you before,
and nothing will hurt you again.

call out to me,
and i will be up at 6:24
to get you off your desk.
no more apex without me.

we only play apex
when i’m in your lap as you play,
tracing my fingers
along the canvas of your face,
and kissing you stupidly—
until you are senseless.

nothing but emptiness.
a black hole filled with sadness
inside out nothingness
consuming me
leaving me with loneliness
i seek revenge.

Remember when we were little?
We’d take every opportunity to see each other.
We did all the classic stuff:
Pillow forts and pizza and old Disney movies.

As we got older
We did it together -
All the classic stuff:
Late night talks and awful cakes and new Disney movies.

We grew up together
When I was mad at nothing
(The world perhaps)
You’d let me rant.

When you were sad
I’d let you cry on my shoulder.
When we were having a hard time
We always knew to turn to each other.

We were best friends
I loved you - in a best friend kind of way.
But we grew more and things changed;
And now you’re gone.

Now I’m watching you grow up
From afar.
Without me -
With her.

And it hurts more than I care to admit
But dang, it hurts.
And it’s tearing me apart.
Forever doesn’t last as long as we thought.

Now I’m seething with pain
And my vision goes red
When I see you with her and not me -
Your new best friend.