Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 77

I bought your book and it just arrived in the mail! this has literally made my day

Yay! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it ♥️

I bought your book and it just arrived in the mail! this has literally made my day

Yay! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it ♥️

I bought your book and it just arrived in the mail! this has literally made my day

Yay! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it ♥️

I don't know how to sext. It's so weird. It's like I am trying to her for something. Help please?

Um, not really. I’m a poet, not a professional sexter although I understand why that occasionally gets mixed up.

Azra, what do you think your MBTI & hogwarts house is?

I know that I’m Slytherin and my MBTI, if I remember correctly is ENFJ :)

"Brown girl, be quiet, quieter,softer. Dumb yourself down, read less,don’t think so muchabout..."

“Brown girl, 

be quiet, quieter,

softer. Dumb 

yourself down, read less,

don’t think so much

about the knots in your belly. 

How it hurts when they 

tell you brown girl

don’t laugh too loud,

don’t say too much.

Brown boys don’t want it,

don’t like it. 

All your dance, all your giggle. 

Your spine or your knuckles, 

those boldfaced ugly opinions. 

How dare you, brown girl, 

put your chin up, meet their gaze

head on? 

Where is your shame? 

Who will want to marry you,

with that attitude?

With that snake tongue?

With all your fire and your venom.

Brown girl keep your eyes down,

brown girl keep your legs shut,

brown girl, disappear,

slowly, gently,

so they don’t see you dimming. 

Turn in on yourself.

Switch the lights off, 

cast your eyes down. 

Brown girl, listen.  

When your auntie tells you

sshhhhhh,

when your mama says 

your hips are too big, 

your mouth is too wide, 

and those words, the bite of them, 

how could you, brown girl, 

be more than that, how could you?”

- Azra.T., “Brown Girl” After Meghan Falley’s ‘Fat Girl’ and all my endless disappointment and frustration at my culture and what it does to our women  (via 5000letters)

It's lovely knowing you're walking the same city as me, like there's a tiny bit more magic here with you.

Oh, you lovely thing. Come and see me. Let’s see the magic of this city together.

love is hard. really hard. and sometimes you’re unhappy and sometimes you’re delirious with it and...

love is hard. really hard. and sometimes you’re unhappy and sometimes you’re delirious with it and sometimes the person you love is near you but so far away that you don’t even want to touch them incase you break them out of whatever it is that they’re inside of. sometimes that’s not you. sometimes it’s not always you and them, sometimes there’s hundreds of other people pressed against the glass of it, smudging it with their fingers. sometimes they are cold and you are tired and you don’t even want to touch each other because there’s been too much touching and it’s not what they need or want. love is sometimes the shaking cat in the back garden that does not want you but needs you. sometimes it’s every sunrise you’ve ever seen blurred into one. it just depends. 

How do you write such sweet, warm poetry without it being corny?!?!?! Like... HOW?

Had to kill a man for the power but it was worth it

"You have turned your heart into a museum of people you’ve loved to keep them alive inside you."

“You have turned your heart into a museum of people you’ve loved to keep them alive inside you.”

- Nikita Gill, “Your Museum Shaped Heart”