Mirror mirror on the wall
Do you see magic beyond their walls
The ones they hide behind for their egos tall
Or do you see scars and pieces fall
What do you see, tell me
Tell me all
Let’s see if what you see
Is truly
Or nothing at all.
– Hiba. // wrote this about a month ago.
Rewind.
Pause.
Edit.
Resume.
There.
Now we have a different outcome.
All good.
No?
I’m here again.
Right after I made my blog public again, I got a notification saying today is the 5th anniversary of my blog.
I guess I gave my blog a sweet present on this day then.
I’m back. And I’m better. Everything is better. And I’m glad.
Hope you guys missed me?
– Hiba
I’m making this blog private in the next week. To anyone who wishes to remain in touch can DM me on IG.
It’s @hiba_syed_q
For those of you who can’t get to me there, can get to me on my personal and third email.. yes. Third. I’ve made a lot of email accounts; hibasyed98@gmail.com
I’ll leave this post up for about a week before I go private so you guys will have somewhere to get to me at.
Anyway, take care.
And farewell..
– Hiba.
I’m going to privatise this blog in a couple of months. I’ve stopped writing and it hurts to have my writings still on showcase.
This is to give a heads up to all of you that genuinely looked forward to the rare occasions on which I wrote and published.
Thank you all for all the support you gave me here. Take care.
I love you, and bbye.
– Hiba.
“I’ll die.. don’t do this to me..”
“Die then. I don’t care.”
It was always a torture opening up in front of other human beings… Potential judges, weapons… which you feed with your own trust till they use it against you.
Pencils and papers were always my friends. Silent, open, blank, unbiased, and always on my side. Sometimes they even let me weep over them and smudge their pretty pages in ink and tears…
They never spoke a word against me. Never in my favour either really, but they let me fill them with my self. What could be a better commitment than to allow a human to completely fill you up…?
These pencils wrote a quadrillion words to express my pain and these pages absorbed ’em all like they were it’s own.
But then I stopped.
I found a person similar to that. I filled him and filled him with lots of love. I filled him till there was no more space to fill. He absorbed my pain just like the pages of my diary did. And he let me cry on him too. He did more in fact. He wiped those tears away for me.
But human beings are deadly weapons. They operate by choice and mood of their own.
All you have to do is load them up with your trust and your secrets. Tell them your flaws and your mistakes. Tell them your regrets and the truth about yourself and wait to see how the gamble turns out. More often than not they will shoot it all back together at you when you will be least expecting it.
They’re the revolver and your trust, the bullets. Tell them all your secrets and fill them with your trust and it will be the same as loading up a gun with bullets. Tell them more and more till there’s no space to fill them anymore and they’ll be a wholly loaded gun pointing right at you.
Now smile and say I trust you.
Soon after you’ll hear screams and find the paramedics collecting your traces off the ground.
– Hiba
I’m waiting now
Waiting to hear my sweet melody
The sound of their voice
The sound of their heart beat
Or the sounds that they make
In the innocence of their sleep
But there’s no melody any more
No music
No heavenly sound of their presence
Just dead silence
Find your home
in a person
and you will be
homeless
in no time.
Rest your head against their chest.
Do you hear?
Their life beating through them?
Listen to it…
And you will know what fear is.
Oh! how fragile their life is…
To only live in heartbeats…
Your sweetest melody…
And how maybe one day you will lay against them like this
And wait for the sweet delicate sound of life
And God forbid…
All you hear is dead silence.
– Hiba
I’m trying
I’m too invested in things more beautiful than poetry
So I’m trying
I’m getting requests to continue
And I don’t wanna refuse
I know the magic words can do
So I wanna continue
But about what
And where do I start
And how
The weather’s nice
It rained today
Like the tears that I shed yesterday
But the rain is mercy
Unlike my pain
So I know I’ve healed
I felt happy
And excited
And I took my parrot out to the balcony
And he screeched and sang from excitement
And that was my heart.
Happy and joyful
Dancing inside from joy
I don’t get why people use umbrellas during such beautiful weather
It’s ungrateful and idiotic
Especially for people in Kuwait
I can’t believe they could be so dumb
After months of being roasted under the scorching Kuwaiti sun
You’d think people would cherish this beautiful weather
Cool breezes
And drops of sweet water from the heavens
And the weather’s gift to the people of Kuwait
And they have the nerve to be so ungrateful
With umbrellas over their heads
And pacing speedily out from under the sky
So desperate to get inside
How ignorant
They don’t cherish it when they get it
And yet they complain all year round about how much they would love if Kuwait was breezy and cool
We live in a world where people who don’t have time
To cherish and enjoy the things they asked for all year round
What a strange world…
What a strange world…
– Hiba
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