if and fate and fear

The word if

We may imagine ourselves making it through
Getting a degree and then making good money
Owning a home and then starting a family
With the happily ever after theme
But there’s one word that holds us back from achieving our dreams
From standing up to the crowd
About what’s right and wrong
Fighting for a better world
With peace and justice
And freedom
What if
I’m laughed at or don’t find love
Or become sick and
I fall into debt
What if I don’t get a job in this degree
Lose my friends
If my spouse turns into an abuser
And takes all my money
If my child becomes sick or I raise her alone
Or I vaccinate her and she gets autism
Lose my house and property, and all support
What if all my hopes come crushing down
To my feet
Begging me to dig myself a grave
Cursing me for being brave
Yet not trying hard enough
To escape fate

as long as you’re alive you can make things meaningful

doesn’t matter how or when just as long as you leave those ifs behind cuz bad things happen and it’s so you can do something about it and become who you Are as cheesy  and escalated as it sounds but die with dignity and with something to be proud of- which is you. Don’t let the bad things devour you to your death.

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Jug of Milk

Adjacent vulnerability welling up my throat.

I saw in a full  clear jug of milk

fresh grass pile up and float

It was the mourning of my past

and my heart’s ill hope

that something for his future might just slope

This was the fresh grass, like a fresh cut

that polluted my jug

for my mourning and my cut would always rise up fresh

and ruin my morning drink

my afternoon drink

and my evening drink

and my night drink

to the point- that I would not think.

the sadness in my desires

for wholesome love to light my fires

spoiled my every drink

depriving me of pure happiness

and the pure willingness

to focus on God

thus leaving me flawed

 

Just like the grass in my milk

 

 

 

Your hidden savior

Trapped deep in the dungeons of your mind
You look up at the gaping window of sustenance
In hope that something– somebody will know you are there, alone, and voiceless.
Expecting someone to hold their hand down
Despite you knowing this is no fairy tale
There isn’t a magical prince to save the damsel in regress of her own distress.

Deep amidst your thoughts of anxiety
Suddenly a suffocating steam erupts,  rising above your ankles
Fear strikes your heart
The prickling heat is climbing up your body
Fear
The pulse hits your heart again

This utter fear, it’s as if a shard of glass has been removed from your eyes
your blurred vision clears for a split second of another sharp pulse
you see a rusty chair sitting near
The touch of turmoil having reached your chest
You scramble to the chair in desperation

through the steam of despair
Escaping death
As you climb out the window
Realizing the sustenance was in you from the beginning.

I cried in Class :(

Salam

Today, I nearly lost it. I couldn’t control my tears. I was in too much pain to handle working in class. Classmates started staring at me as I was cringing, trembling and probably turning red from this female bodily chaos. The stress in getting through my classes, doing all my homework and taking care of my brain all while perioding ( dont want to say the “m” word, it sounds scary and medical) became overbearing.
My day at school just began and I only lasted 5 minutes in ceramics class until I whimpered to my professor if I can come back tomorrow to work on my projects. I whimpered. I didn’t have the energy to stoke up a straight forward Hey I’m not feeling good, I need to leave- Can I come tomorrow. ” I didn’t want to make a scene. Especially since college just started a week ago 😥

For me, my period consists of: Hormones, wanting to throw up, hungry, thirsty, not hungry, not thirsty, hating and loving in the same time, wanting to crap out all the pain, the feeling of knives being jabbed up your vagina, and then lastly the overall  fatigue and insane need for sleep. all whilst the urge to inhale chocolate. It excruciating since my body isn’t able to withstand it all at once. I can’t even sleep through it. I just wait until it’s over. 48 hours. of waiting.

So how can this not result in a few tears dying to escape. Literally dying. I Felt like I needed to die to end it all. I can’t wait till menopause. I’d rather deal with heat flashes any day then the combination of physical and mental hell infused into my body and mind.

I really do wonder how other women are able to conceal this torture. It truly amazes me how they’re able to bare through it and still get work done and maintain a professional face.  I know these period stories are nothing new but it’s something that seriously affects me every month. It affects the way I think and feel every time.

Oh how I wish this society can officially accept women having at least one day off for their periods. I wonder how much more would actually get accomplished by that. Fortunately, men in Islam are commanded to be extra kind and patient with the women in their lives when they go through this pain( AKA Bitch phase). Women are given time off their duties and allowed to snooze and let all go as they vortex into their own uterine world of biological renewal. I’m spoiled. And it’s my god-given right to be!