Thoughts Worth Mentioning

When you’re sick, so dizzy you can’t even get out of bed, feelings of helplessness and loneliness just pour all over you submerging your head . It’s only natural, I suppose, to contemplate upon life in general with a hint of a pessimistic overview .

Being healthy is more important than anything else in the world.

She gently hands me the medicine and arranges flowers in my room, while checking on me every once in a while.

In such times, I’m once again reminded of how my mother is the only person willing to sacrifice her own peace of mind and time to take care of me and make sure I get better . We have our problems, conflicts and different perspectives , but I am always re-assured that her love for me is infinite and she’d always be there for me . She is the only person who can actually deal with my bad sides patiently, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she accepts those sides. But she is there … Always there for me no matter what, even if we are both angry as hell and just shouting in the middle of a supposed conversation, she manages to cool down things.

She is the main reason I’m still here.
That said, everything I do is down right horrible. Feelings of guilt and sadness are just filling me up right now because I’d like to be true someday …. Not afraid and fully leading one life. Not having to create and invent …. Just there … Out there … Seen as a whole. Not needing or wanting, just being .

It’s a fact that I can’t and won’t be able to satisfy everyone in my life, including myself.

The months ahead will be the most difficult because I will start taking slow, but drastic actions while fully taking responsibility for the consequences.

I’d like to be one whole entity instead of scattered pieces .

It’s exhausting having to collect back those pieces.

Bored Till Death

Death is a beautiful woman
drenched in blue velvet
while smoking green
in the afternoon.

Death loves black cats
bare skin and constant
colorful melodies and
tunes .

Her red lipstick on the wall
Sweet traces of sweat and tears
Untouched sand and seashores
Red blood moon and a call.

Death is a tight palm tree skirt
And a vintage scarf over her neck
loud screams and several whispers
through the long morning hours.

Death is long lonely summer nights
powdery soft ivory kisses
infinite space within four walls
playful sea lions in the air.

Death is my boredom filling
my empty room and bed
writing on the wall:
”bored till death”
I might as well die

Death is not being
there together.

Copyright 2014

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy

Red Sky

I don’t know about today
or tomorrow or
after tomorrow
Vagueness spreads over
meaningless calenders
and untouchable changing
hours.

We are only wasting time
floating over naked mattresses
painting the unknown
Embracing light and fearing
darkness as it takes me away.

I don’t care if I turn into ashes
tomorrow or disappear through
my sleep tonight.
I won’t mind dissolving through
air and a red sky.

Mud and dark fall scent
over repetitive morning coffee
and stale cigarettes with
old foolish spirits.

She writes out of boredom
out of erotic tendencies
slipping through her mind
like black silk undergarments
and gods kissing swiftly through
different dimensions and worlds.

She changes with different seasons
not knowing what to expect
losing and gaining silence
and in between:
she feels everything and she feels
nothing
losing some of her braincells
and hurting her ability to
memorize.

Staying any longer
will only destroy than
create.
Too much suffocation.

Running out of time.

Copyright 2014

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy