She Was Never The Poem
She was never the poem,
She was always the writer.
She used to write throughout the morning
noon and the night
Painting herself in words
hoping they would decorate her bleeding heart.
She never became the poem
She was always more of a riddle.
And I think the ink from her pen killed her a little
I Wish We Could Choose How We Die
I WISH WE COULD CHOOSE HOW WE DIE
BECAUSE I WOULD CHOOSE FIRE.
WE COULD SYNCHRONIZE OUR CRIES
WATCH OUR FLESH DRIP LIKE BLOOD.
OUR SOULS COULD MELT TOGETHER
BEATS OF SWEAT MINGLED WITH FLECKS OF ASH.
OUR BONES COULD BE THE PAINTBRUSHES
THAT SWIRLED OUR HOT MESS OF ASH.
OUR TWO HEARTS COULD BIND US TOGETHER,
AND WE WOULD NEVER BE APART!
Always Beside You
Always beside you, I said
through All, You replied
Always beside you
As that little star always is
with the bright moon
following its every footstep
protecting and comforting
as much as it is admired
it may fall lonely.
With her, the star,
she will never leave
staying beside the moon
in all of its phases
no matter how hard or gentle
it pushed the tides
the star will remain,
Always beside you
A beautiful Poetry of love written by Azmina Anwer Khan