healing, pain, sexual harrasmemt

Lost and found.

Some days

When the nights are too dark

And the owls howl around

The mangrove spread its branches

And the mud goes deep and down.

That man meddling inside my mind

Walks on me in these hours

I desire to bustle and breathe

But I feel dull and devoured.

I run into the circles

Searching for the lost parts of mine

And find myself trapped

With a broken spine.

On those some days

I don’t know what to do.

So,

I wrap my hands around my knees

Sit beneath the shower.

Gasp the sunshine from the window

That blooms my budding flower.

I keep my wounds in bare hands

Allows them to heal.

The past will terrify sometimes, I tell

Look, the present is sound and serene.

The nights will turn dark

The owls will howl around.

But after some days

White lilies will spread itself

The mud won’t go deep and down.

Winter sun won’t lose its way

But it will nurture the ground.

These some days

It’s a matter of time.

Someday soon, I know

I will feel my skin

limbs, and

bones

Again, like mine.

Healing is a tiring phase.

-Noor

                             

 

Standard
sexual harrasmemt

How I turned into an art?



Like a doll, you
assured me, the harm.

Ripped the fibers
of my frock, at first.

Turned my head then , and
splitted those arms.

To find honey between those legs,
You finally set them apart.

Enough force, some
Were still unable to pare.

With those still intact parts , I mended
the scattered pieces of my heart.

Before you, I was a little doll.
It was your act of carnality.

That Turned me
into an art.

That turned me
Into an art..
                                           – Noor



Standard
body shaming, health, insecurities, pain, poem

My mirror made me realise.

Chubby cheeks, sweaty thighs
Flabby arms plus short height.

Being fat and bulky, I
Was never their favourite child.

Bitter taunts and weight loss tips
Used to be my feed at dine.

It’s not the SELF LOVE, but
The SELF HATE , I learnt at nine.

Crying as a bullied teen
I heard a voice one night –

“your body is only yours
Your scars are sunshine.
No matter what they say
It’s their unpaid job to criticise.”

It’s not my mother. But
My mirror made me realise –

YOUR BODY IS ONLY YOURS
WHETHER YOU ARE NINE OR NINETY NINE.

                                                               – Noor

Standard
poem

Daffodils

And in that moment
I was happy
Like daffodils
In the spring.
Dancing on the melodies
With those curves,
I swing.
Like the world is mine
I am the moon, and
The Sunshine.
And the universe needs,
All of me
To survive.
The pain was fainted
The smile has arrived.
The rain said
“I am not helping you crying”.
The soil is nourished
Asking me to “grow for a while.”
My heart found its rhythms
And walked  a mile.
I wasn’t following the footsteps
But  was my own guide.
I lived in the present.
Maybe till winter arrive.
I may shed one day
But I won’t cry.
Because in that moment,
I didn’t gave up on life.
I was life.

– Noor

Standard
Dating, relationship

Do you ever get out of love?


Person you have loved once
you can never unlove them.

This is a harsh truth.

The part of yours
Will always be attached to that person. But
Your more efforts
Won’t make the person
Fall in love with you.

Accept this
Start exploring
Focus on better things.

One day
All the memories
Would fade away
New memories will
Take place.

Someone else
Will reciprocate
Your love.
You will heal
You won’t feel
The need
Of that person.

It is what it is.
God has planned
Something else.

Be patient

One who has to
Nurture you.
Will stay
No matter what

So
Stop crying
Over the one
Who are gone
They were meant to
Leave.

-Noor

Standard
pain

Dealing with unbearable pain?

In order to heal
The universe
Asks you to stop.

You don’t realise, but
You are in pain.

Take rest
Let the tears roll.
Tactile the emotions
Blend within you.
You cannot run or hide
All the time.
Consuming cannabis
Would stop helping
After a while.

This is hard.
Obviously.

Key to live, is.
Acceptance.
Accept that you are hurt
And broken.

Give time to yourself
Percieve the path of healing.
It is a slow process, but
You will be fine.

This is the beauty of pain
It demands to be felt.

– Noor

Standard