Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 192

you are a poem. you are a religion. words sigh as you write them. all 26 letters pray to you when they get lonely.

Oh my entire body has turned into a sigh

New playlist! Cover Me Up (A collection of some of my favourite...

New playlist! Cover Me Up (A collection of some of my favourite cover tracks): 

Crave You - Daniela Andrade 
Ayo Technology - Milow
Say My Name/Cry Me A River - The Neighbourhood
No Scrubs - Bastille
You’re The One That I Want - Angus and Julia Stone
Call Me Maybe - Ben Howard
People Help The People - Birdy 
Video Games - Bombay Bicycle Club
Billie Jean - The Civil Wars
Wherever You Will Go - Charlene Soraia 
Hallelujah - Jason Castro
West Coat - James Vincent McMorrow 

Listen to it here! x

"I am not sorry for these hands,these wrists, your sleepless nightsand your boneless, your..."

“I am not sorry for these hands,

these wrists,

your sleepless nights

and your boneless,

your ‘better off without you’

I am not sorry for the way we kissed,

that it was violent,

that it was like torrential downpour

on hard ground

I am not sorry for our sapling love

our tree-root love

our growing from the throat up love

I am not sorry that I asked you to soften for me

I’m sorry that you couldn’t

I’m sorry that I knew what it meant

sorry that we couldn’t ignore it

your downturned lips,

my ‘show me that you care’

your ‘I can’t’

I am sorry for your silence

and I am sorry for mine

I am sorry that I lost you

that I did it with my own hands

that we spent so long setting fires

we didn’t think about the burn

I am sorry that it wasn’t enough

somehow, somehow

there wasn’t enough miracle

on our hands but I am not sorry

that I loved you

because I meant it,

I meant it.”

- Azra.T., “Love song for the tree in my stomach and how I named it after you” 

Your blog aesthetics are always something I make a special trip to see. They don't call you the queen of aesthetics for nothing, that's for sure.

Thank you, dove! Caitlyn thinks she’s overthrown my reign but she’s wrong tbh

"Where were you when I was still kind?"

“Where were you when I was still kind?”

- Gregory Alan Isakov, “Master & A Hound” 

Tell us about the panic button in your back pocket, and the time your surgeon hands shook

Tell them about how you had to leave yourself open on that table. Tell them about how you let him touch inside of you. Tell them about when he had his hands inside of your chest. Tell them when he shook his head and decided he didn’t want any of it. Tell them how it hurt. Tell them how he stitched you up wrong and you had to take those surgeon hands and make yourself new again. Tell them that you loved him. Tell them how that had never mattered.

Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?They stare at...

Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me as I stare at you. 
Why can’t I keep you safe as my own? 
One moment I have you the next you are gone

"'Girls like you' your mother says ‘are going to be disappointed a lot.’ She’s..."

“

'Girls like you' your mother says

‘are going to be disappointed a lot.’

She’s chopping coriander so fast that her hand is a blur

and you’re 12 and you’re standing

like a tremble, grubby knees and tear stained cheeks,

an offering in front of her

‘Why?’ Your voice is a quiet shake.

She puts the knife down and calls you ‘jaan’

she holds your face in her wet hands,

you don’t flinch because this

is what love looks like

she kisses your forehead like forgiveness

‘because you mean what you say,

you think other people are the same.’

She tells you that she spent four years

trying to learn their language

but people ask how you are

and walk away before you can tell them.

‘I’d rather be silent.’ She says.

‘At least being quiet is honest.’

You’ll come home seven years later

wearing your heart like a bruise

on the inside of your sleeve

‘mama,’ you’ll say, voice like a thunder crack

‘he said he loved me, and I believed him,

I shouldn’t have,

I think that he lied.’

She’ll be older then, but she’ll kiss you

just as tender, just as birdlike.

‘Is it my fault?’ You’ll ask.

She is half lioness, half woman. She is all roar.

‘Listen to me’ she calls you her soul again.

She says it in your language so you know

that she means it.

‘You are so infinitely tender,’ she takes the frown

of your face in her hands and holds it carefully

'People will not always know what to do with that.

You can’t ever be sorry for the way you loved,

You can’t be sorry for who you loved.

Don’t ever let them bend you backwards

don’t let them make you hard or bitter.’

Her voice turns into a growl

'You did not get this from me.

Somewhere inside of you there is rain.

Somewhere in your stomach,

something beautiful is growing

and it is infinite.

Don’t you let them try and take that from you,

you are open and you are a flood,

someday someone is going to want to die in you.’

”

- Azra.T., ”Jaan-E-Maan”

And also Van Gogh was really really sad all the time and I wish somehow someone could tell him now...

And also Van Gogh was really really sad all the time and I wish somehow someone could tell him now that he did so, so good. That he made a big difference, that everyone loves him, that his art is hanging in some of the most beautiful places, that it wasn’t all for nothing. If I met him now I would hold his head between my hands and say ‘I’m so sorry you felt the way you did but you fought the good fight for as long as you could and look at everything you did. Look how it turned out.’

Can I use your writing in a graphic if I credit you for it?

Yes of course! You don’t need to ask as long as you mention somewhere that it’s mine! You should tag me in it I’d love to see :) x