Hate Poem

I am grateful

For the baby steps

For the little things

For the little flaws

They are making it easier

To despise you gradually

Increasing day by day

But I am waiting anxiously

For when my indifference

Will outweigh

My hopeless attachment


I don’t know what else to say.

Muslims are the problem.

A teenage girl is kidnapped and brutally murdered (possibly raped) on her way to the mosque but, no, muslims are the problem.

Muslims think it is their duty to march against terrorist attacks to show the people around them that it was the act of a radical minority but, no, muslims are the problem.

Physical and verbal abuse is hurled at ordinary individuals walking down the streets by racists but, no, muslims are the problem.

I am a muslim and I am mad because I can do nothing about it but, no, muslims are the problem.


Exchange is meant
To and fro, flowing serenely
Without protest, with assurance
Smooth transition
Carving ways slowly
Treading light footsteps
Cotton balls of passion
Thread and needle
Tight seams
Refusal as acceptance
Coloured red string
Harmoniously spaced
Smooth tugs
Wreathed in
Incorrect stitches undone
With mutual unraveling
Without a thread
There is no cloth
Without a trickle
There is no pathway
Without acknowledgement of fences
There is no harmony
Without limitations
There is no understanding


I put thoughts into your head

And see myself as you do

Not the best of who I am

But possibly the worst

I cringe, I protest, I try to reassure

Letting my worst judgment reign over myself

I think you see me like I see myself

I know you see me like I see myself

I wish, I hope, I pray it is not true

I try to feign indifference sadly so

But deep inside my mind I crouch and hide

With only myself in whom to confide

I Need You

I Need You

I’ve been very slow with posting my poems here on my blog. I usually just put them up on Instagram as soon as I write them. I have so many to post here but if you’d like to see all the ones I’ve written, you can head over to Instagram and give them a look. Thanks for reading!


I drilled a hole in my door

So you could take a peak

But you opened ten wide

With the intention to compete

Who hurts more

Is not a race

Your ten do not exist

For my single one to replace



You were at the tip of my fingers

The first thing on my mind

Embedded deep in my heart

And the last to fall behind


Now my finger tips are severed

My mind is such a mess

My heart only a muscle

As you vanish ahead of the rest