Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 126
May 21, 2015
sext: i scrape my teeth across your neck and deliberately leave a bruise so your mum will notice....
sext: i scrape my teeth across your neck and deliberately leave a bruise so your mum will notice. you imprint your hands onto my hips, the shape of your fingers on the soft swells of me. like this, we mark each other, ink drops on diary pages. we eat each other whole and somehow, this too, is poetry.
He likes tame girls, Azra. Silent girls. Girls that mean no harm. It's never going to be me.
Why would you want it to be you? Why would you not want to be with someone who glorifies in your fight and fury? All the brilliant raging fire. It’s never going to be him. He’s not going to get to know the wonder of you. Soon enough you’ll realise that that’s a good thing. That he did you a favour.
May 20, 2015
Do you like coffee? If so, how do you like it? Do you want to go on a coffee date with me and talk about poetry? And laugh at how we are suckers for love and boys who make us question reality? I feel like our souls are very, very good friends, but you just
I like my coffee very creamy, two sugars. When I go out I have an iced hazelnut latte with a lemon tart and I drink it too fast but I eat the tart really slowly because it’s amazing. I’ll go for a coffee date with you. Tell your soul mine says hi and that it’s been too long.
Do you like coffee? If so, how do you like it? Do you want to go on a coffee date with me and talk about poetry? And laugh at how we are suckers for love and boys who make us question reality? I feel like our souls are very, very good friends, but you just
I like my coffee very creamy, two sugars. When I go out I have an iced hazelnut latte with a lemon tart and I drink it too fast but I eat the tart really slowly because it’s amazing. I’ll go for a coffee date with you. Tell your soul mine says hi and that it’s been too long.
"In this story, there are no beasts
or princesses in towers,
only my mother, bearing the cross
of..."
or princesses in towers,
only my mother, bearing the cross
of our culminate sins.
In this story
we have to love each other in secret,
wearing teeth marks and bruises,
under the duvet of warm nights.
We play hide and seek with God.
I tell him that I love you in my prayers,
and hope that he understands
that this is everything.
That I mean it.
In this story, you are not the treasure at the end of the map.
Not gold or silver or jewels
but the soft pulsing heart of an oyster,
the pink aching bruise of it.
In this story, I am peeling you away from yourself
and delighting that you are
trembling underneath your skin.
I keep your vulnerability safe.
In this story, you are the edge of the sky,
and I am grasping at your corners,
holding armfuls and armfuls of you and this is joy.
In this story, we are both glowing, raw light.
In this story I am the dragon and you are my fire.
In this story, we walk up those stone steps together.
I will love you proudly
and wear it like a badge of honour on my chest.
In this story, the sun will sink into the horizon
and we will walk into the ocean together,
holding hands, doused in glorious light.”
- Azra.T ‘Happily Ever After’
GUYS help me settle an argument with Salma please (as she is a lil bitch who lives her life wrong...
GUYS help me settle an argument with Salma please (as she is a lil bitch who lives her life wrong and without appreciation of finer things), how many of you enjoy mashed potatoes?
coffeetooth:
cliché wants of today: someone to play with my hair as I’m falling asleep, for them to...
cliché wants of today: someone to play with my hair as I’m falling asleep, for them to whisper that they love me, and they run their fingers over my skin in circular motions while they kiss me
"and love
that rude religion
is neither
diffident
correct
nor safe"
that rude religion
is neither
diffident
correct
nor safe”
- Sandra Cisneros, from “Valparaiso,” My Wicked Wicked Ways (via lifeinpoetry)
thank you for existing. just, thank you.
You should thank God and my momma for that darlin’!
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