Blue Velvet

I’m choking
on myself
on my skin, my bones, my blood, my brain cells, my whispers, my cries, my dreams, on the World.
I can’t breath
There is something holding the air inside my lungs pushing my spinal cord into my near ephemeral end.
Ay c-a-n-n-o-t ..,,

The blue velvet eyeshadow was smugged by my tears the other day as my frustration over juice showed.
It was smugged over again by my silent cries when she hugged me over flowers and happiness untold.
The blue velvet eyeshadow
The never ending fake glow
stopped by the most famous volcano in the Vtopia district of natural made souls full of unstable feelings and emotions waiting to explode making the long waited desired eruption.

It’s ok to cry.
No one will understand anyway.
It’s ok to cry.


Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy



Imprints and Footsteps

Tomorrow is the today I delayed
Today is the painful time I have to endure
Blue rosemary and coffee trees
I’m through with your existence
I’ve seen my colorful tears once before
Right after the emptiness I had to endure

Have you seen those huge imprints
over fingertips and footsteps?
Your smile is enough to build a
whole graveyard.
Give up the trust, take in all the stardust,
and give in to your goosebumps.
I’d like to see you jump over
a cliff or a building someday
Watch your blood splattered body and
brain covering the ground and cuddling it
instead of my shivering body.
I’d like to kill you sometimes
and make you choke on purple feathers.
I’ll take you slowly and lure you in
towards the inner caves of mystic dwellings.
Don’t go too wild though
”Wait for it”, they say
Wait for it until your corpse
The lights will stink just for you.
The sky will leak just for you.
And I will caress your vocal cords
with my own bare hands.


Pink Eyes

My walls are breathing.

I can hear every inhale

and exhale.

The texture is soft,

and apples aren’t always

bright on the inside.

I have restored their bodies

hanging quietly

on every side

staring silently at

my empty


Pink eyes

Immortal wickedness

and shameless desires.

The walls never judge

Never betray

Never hold a grudge.

Mother hates them

she despises our


Mother tore us apart.

Painted the walls

destroyed the cards.


we are immortal.Image

Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy


A Lulaby for My Love

Baby let’s go for a walk

when the world is cold

and the minds are old.

Hold my hand when you’re lost

I’ll show you the way

No matter what it costs.

Baby we’ll ride bicycles

all day long

I’ll let you have all the

sugar cubes that

you want.

Baby I’ll collect for you

all the unheard and unseen


I’ll caress and know the path

to all your known and unknown


When you kiss me

I’ll make sure

our existence is pure

and our shadows

will endure

all our thoughts.

Baby lets go for a walk

our souls are not sold

Baby lets go for a walk

cause you’ll always be my


and I’ll love you the



Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy



A complex line of thought


My only companion

who graciously

prompted my steps

to a heavenly situated mind.

”After a good while of isolation she put on some eye liner and simple clothes and went to buy something from the store and the sales person was stunned by her looks even though she thought she looked ordinary and messy. He got so nervous and dropped the money while still trying to delve into her wide shiny eyes. She left leaving him in awe.”

The room is filled with invisible shapes.

A ceiling with pink lips and hands.

Their photos are alive.

The craves and sights filling

her head and leaving

the body weary .

”Why does he think that giving in is weakness and not out of desire and pleasure? She took advantage of him.”

What difference does sleep make

when the mind never sleeps

and the body is always awake

The stars are scarce and the

moon is penetrating the sphere

in a cosmic infinite union.

Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy




Death is our savior

Death shows us the way

to the real truth

Death is beautiful

Death is high on humans

Death only do us part

Death is angelic but

only misuderstood

Death, be my friend

and share my solitude

Death, blow me anytime

Loving you is not a crime

Death, suck my blood dry

I don’t care, I won’t cry

Death, I give myself to you



I am yours



Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy



Vanilla Scented Darkness

Amid all the dense weight ,

The negotiable notions of self redemption,

Amid the forgotten details

of a heavy damp fair map

lies the unspeakable thoughts and infatuations.

god loves sinners and imperfectionists

who spark the night with their endless yearnings.

god loves girls who wear black eye liner and fish nets

in a concert lamenting some morbid sides.

The soul’s intensity veiled with humanness

is trying to find a way out.

What is it about souls impersonating souls ?

The idealistic and insightful vitamins

found in a spinal cord are moving

where nothing can be found.

White matter turns into soft anarchy

feeding over a splendid voice and

some Vanilla scented darkness.

It’s dark, damp and resplendent

like a pink necropolis ditching floating bodies.

Daring dashes and darling dusks

daydreaming dainty and delicacies

and downwards the map, hedonism is found.


Copyright 2013

All rights reserved, Asmaa Lotfy