heba
heba
Sep 4, 2018 · 2 min read

another confessional piece that i shouldn’t be writing to you, but we both know i will write it. so here is another confession about why i am deeply in love with you and why i shouldn’t, you now rest in every bone within me, i know that we can’t happen, but i guess that we mattered even just for a moment. i wish i knew how to ease this pain. i don’t know how to act when you are away, but i don’t know how to act when you are near, you make me feel like i shouldn’t breathe you. but tonight i am keeping you on the tip of my fingers to quiet these thoughts, where sadness holds me instead of your words, and i still miss my heart, you are still holding it, so i am writing to quiet the way my heart beats at the sight of your eyes in my dreams. but you are in my skin tonight, and i am afraid tonight, i am afraid of the fact that i will never be able to fall out of love, and i am afraid of how i am still falling so hard for you, how i am almost dying because i am overdosing you, like how i am not writing this poetry to you, but poetry is writing you all over me, like i have no control over my heart, like how my heart almost has a mind of its own with you. i am a little sour, my tender heart skips beats more than it should, forgive me for i can be overly sensitive, forgive me for my words being about you, long before i knew you, they were about you, long after you they are about you. forgive me, for my words will belong to another. the truth is i love you, the truth is i don’t want to, and i am trying to be ok, but i am broken, and the truth is i miss you. the truth is i am feeling like a caged bird who hasn’t spread its wings and hasn’t seen the sky in years, but for now i am still writing about you, and i am waiting for these words to not mean anything, waiting for these feelings to wear something other than my heart, for your being to not make the earth underneath me stop, and for me to be able to let another soul touch my core and feel the touch.

heba elhaddad

    heba

    Written by

    heba

    prose poetry kind of soul

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