and forget about my questions that make me feel alone
patterns of a madness I dont want to console
they make me feel terrible, they make me be wrong
I know im a strange one
maybe its all me
maybe im the one who doesnt understand all the parts of me
parts that make me
and parts that break me
parts that fake me
and parts that earn me
for I know im at war with myself
i know im bleeding inside
too in pain to go find that wound
it hurts too much to put pressure
like a shadowless human being
just walking a path... sometimes feeling so isolated
so lost
barely knowing my name
or what it means to me
barely understanding why am here
in this life , with this life, and after this life
forgetting the most important parts of a stranger
and trying to find the meanings in another
I dont make sense no more
am so enstranged , so in denial
am lazy like an ugly crocodile
am weak like a tormented soul should be
exactly the definition of a childish soul
one who wants a toy until ever after to hell
a ll communication lost with a beautiful woman inside
one who writes , one who commands , one who reads, one who thinks , one who ....
feeling like a detective - but never reaching for the solution
maybe a bit of evidence , but never the end
always stuck in the middle
trying to hold on but too heavy with burden
of a faithless creation of someone i dont even know
that part of me I dont even know
that part of me who doesnt listen to Quran no more
or pray on time no more
or listens to azan no more
or listen to quran with hope and breath no more
or does tasbeeh no more
or has a focus on who she is no more
dont know who I am no more
am just blurred..........
to be continued
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