Written on Sep, 17, 2017
by ZiyanaK
I love you. We’ve all heard these words before. We’ve said them before. We’ve given them out like they were candies wrapped in little blue boxes with silver strings, we’ve imagined them into our desires so we could feel a little less…
Written on Sep, 08, 2017
by ZiyanaK
I’ve never been so tired – but it’s the kind of tired would you wait your whole life to feel because that’s how you know you are living this life with your whole heart and soul. *** I didn’t know it was possible…
Written on Aug, 21, 2017
by ZiyanaK
We can’t wait for our wounds to start healing – not because we want to feel better but because we want to start comparing the size of our scars. *** Apparently, we only have the right to be important when we’re placing our…
Written on Jun, 24, 2017
by ZiyanaK
Even when I bathe in rosewater and wear dewdrops like a string of pearls I will never be able to make myself clean enough or pretty enough to sleep in between my bedsheets. *** It’s ironic hat I was always made fun of…
Written on Jun, 06, 2017
by ZiyanaK
The flowers wrapped around streetlamps are dying. I can’t help but hope another tragedy will come along so I don’t have to stop admiring them. *** What you’ll never understand about me is that I am made of water, and just when you think…
Written on May, 13, 2017
by ZiyanaK
ROSEMARY: A young, fairy-tale loving girl who was raised by a gentle and attentive mother (MARIANNE). She is initially bright and hopeful, but as she grows older and more beautiful, she becomes the object of her mother’s jealousy. Thus her relationship with MARIANNE…
Written on Mar, 25, 2017
by ZiyanaK
I am not unbreakable. I spend my time dodging the echoes of footsteps, slipping around the discordant quavers of notes that try to penetrate my skin and mummify me with bandages of music staffs. I hear the pleas and the screams of the…
Written on Jan, 20, 2017
by ZiyanaK
Remember the moon survives, draws herself out crescent-thin, a curved woman. Untouchable, she bends around the shadow that pushes himself against her, and she waits. Remember how you waited when the nights bled their darkness out like ink, to blacken the days…
Written on Dec, 30, 2016
by ZiyanaK
My body is the sanctuary of my lineage, the safe that holds an inheritance too great for me to apologise it away, for me to denounce the differences in my complexion simply because of their colour. Identity is encoded into my body like…
Written on Nov, 13, 2016
by ZiyanaK
My sea is layered and lively, a collection of every part of me and unrestrained in the candor of its being. My sea is me. Their sea is surface and simple, a fraction of the truth and limited to what they are able…
Recent Comments