Unpresented

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

what a Gift that He gave, like she came from another dimension, words like token fluff for her, while piercing me as daggers sharpened effortlessly unintended. not the first time i live on in the wake of such moments, even after she found realization and an apology sprouted eventually forth...but the rest of me wonders: how long will my nature compel me to keep reaching out, building bridges, when our natures are like fire and ice and scarce able to reach my sought-after level of coexistence? how long do i last, how many breaths, seconds, situations, instances, that i absorb every worded dagger, remembering its pain in the blood so perhaps i build immunity to such inflictions the next time around that qadr decides i haven't had enough to savor? if you knew how i've lately schismed with my Rabb, that He splits me into pieces such as this, keeps me silent from my beacons, taunts me with beauty on my Gift, but beauty that which she is not too fond of having touched or kissed, oft rejected and to me unmissed...the ironies have long torn their way inside, way down deep, every day that passes is one in which this taste lingers, He is the One Who takes and gives, misleads and guides, dooms and gives cause to thrive, yet how often have i longed, to no longer breathe the breath of those caught up in this life? but He has me denied, repeatedly, incessant, pulling me along, to be called a skeleton might be generous, paper is closer to my dimensions, a single plane inscripted by both pen and pencil and easily as pie by His decree i'm overwritten. there is, for such states, for Him, a word the opposite of my nature, opposite of l---, that over my lifetime i've sometimes felt, a word i'd dare not utter, yet absent resonance, i have no nearby beloved, no echo chamber, none to point right the steer of my ship, perhaps counsel with reminder of what i chase, so that word is left as the final taste on my tongue on these days where rain and snow combine to bluster. would He let my beloved pierce this veil, to let shine some brightness through a sky shrouded by storm and shiver? would be nice, now come to me oh sleep, perchance finding rest behind eyes closed and at peace, iA