Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, my mommy’s hip style, always turning heads.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, her shirt-on-pants energy, ready to dance, prance, or run.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her love for the holidays, wishing upon every star and kissing all the mistletoes so they don’t feel lonely.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her hanging on to every chance for fleeting happiness to remind myself how life is worth living, sometimes.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her forgiveness; I’m forgiving my ex-friends, even if just for today.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her humour and making sure everyone laughs and feels included by smiling back.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her anxiety; I’ll smoke it, make a joke about it, and hide in my first-born hug… except I don’t have me to do so.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, Her love; I’ll sing you a litany of reasons to love yourself and wait to be sung back mine.
Today I’m channeling my mommy’s energy, Wit and grit to hold myself accountable with love and tenderness,
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy, because I yearn for her hug. Silly texting her, arguing with her, making her proud, and holding her hand.
Today I’m channelling my mommy’s energy… Cause today I full heartedly miss my mommy.
– It’s heartbreaking how ill spend the rest of my life looking for details that I resemble my mother in a way or another. How I won’t have new photos of her.. How I’ll look through her photos to find a similarity to hold on to and hug while sleeping
Surviving that date usually indicates dissolving into the grief of my mother’s prospect then confirmed death.. since 2019.
After 40 years on this earth I discovered that 9/9 is nothing but an infinity sign deconstructed..
Just like my heart after she left.
9/9.. four and one years ago was the day I became an actual adult. A 35 years old woman that just got expelled from childhood. As it’s the day the womb I was once occupying got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer..for the first time all at once all of a sudden.
So, this year.. I decided I’ll do the laundry. Tenderly, Fold my heart in two.
I’ll do the laundry and I’ll wash the grief off of the love.
I’ll do the laundry and tumble off the first vision of my mom in the hospital bed.
I’ll do the laundry and iron her first excitement when she saw me walk through the door of the empty room.. like a child found her mom in the crowd..
I’ll do the laundry and kiss her handwriting on my wrist so hard till the stain of my lips are imprinted on her letters.
I’ll do the laundry and smell her scent in the air hoping my dreams would catch it.
I’ll do the laundry and sleep in her arms.. and hope I’ll always remember them.
5 beating hearts in this home 18 paws and feet 70 accumulated years 1 anxious heart 1 comforted heart (same heart as above) 7 white butterflies 1000 kisses Limitless Ayahuasca blessings 1001 hugs and embraces 10,000 hours of voicenotes (including but not limited to: love letters and heartbreaks) 16 beginning again 500,000 dancing steps 500,989 tears of joy and pain 10,000 broken and fulfilled promises 1987 poems written or sobbed 1,000,000 eyes and smiles and laughter Beyond this world 🍄🍄 revelation 3,000,000 cells overflowing with gratitude and love 1 mom to miss 4 friends remain 2 sisters love and accept 1 tribe connecting no matter where we are 1 brother support 17 parts of me 49 versions of me 1 version longing 1 Memesa and only 1 in this beautiful world 1 Mohsen 1 Zaghlool 1 Zorro 1.5 Ramadan the menace 27 heartbreaks 40 years on this earth in this lifetime ♾️ Ancestors and guides and support seen and unseen
I remember back in 2018, I was sitting in the back.
And we agreed to pretend we were not separated because you were hoping I’d change my mind. That version of me felt so trapped it almost suffocated her.
My brother was sitting next to you, he had just arrived after graduation, looking for hope to hang his oversized dreams on. And me, praying either it would shrink to fit him or for him to bulk up to fit it—praying it wouldn’t break him along the way.
I remember, I was lost in the taste of loneliness; it made my mouth starve.
And then, a man flying on a motorcycle passed so swiftly I could hear my eardrums ring after he did. I remember parts of me crying instantly at how free he felt and looked versus how I felt.. and maybe even looked.
I remember that moment like the back of my mother’s hand. The gasp of breath I took to stop myself from screaming, “Let me go.”
And I swore I wouldn’t feel that trapped again.
And today, I rode the bike dedicated to that part of me that felt trapped; she was there, screaming her lungs out, “Onwards!”
as I got closer to my 40 and watching how fate/God/the universe made sure to end a lot of cycles, relationships and not drag them in my 40ies is definitely a bittersweet and full of wisdom that I can’t wait to unfold.
I just want to say that this is an ode to all the versions of me, all parts of me I got the privilege to meet and hug and all the parts that are yet to meet and love. To all the matriochka dolls inside of me and to the matriochka doll I’m part of.
To all the parts that show themselves or play hide and seek.
To all the versions I once was, I see you, I cherish you, I love you. I now know, the universe is not out there to get me but to hold me . Even if it feels like crushing sometimes. I now know, nothing is forever even if it feels like such. I now know, the universe will send helpers big and small seen and unseen.
And above all, I am my mother’s savage daughter. Always has been and always will be.
1. All versions of you are watching you closely, learning to speak kindly about them requires a lot of work. 2. Friends break your heart. 3. People who have used you will change and will let go when you don’t fit their aesthetic, it’s a reflection of them. Not you. 4. Even if you love them, don’t allow their projections and judgment to get to you 5. Whoever put you on a pedestal feels a bit inferior to you. Will only come out as resentment and bashing your reputation out when you show your humanity. 6. With the cruelty in the world, keeping your heart kind is one of the most difficult things you will have to do 7. Always keep your already open bag of sugar in the fridge to not attract ants… and I’m not talking about sugar 8. Your love for your mom will always be there in your heart, feel the pain, Keep the love. 9. Let them. 10. Dance even if you dance alone 11. Sing your heart out even when you miss the tunes. Let your voice be loud and out 12. When you can’t sing, hum. 13. Wear that tight dress 14. Don’t be a good girl for long. Misbehave and don’t regret it. 15. Sex is not shameful, your body is not a sin 16. Your sisters and brother are your first best friends and will be ones of the very few people that accept you wholeheartedly 17. Your body is your sole ongoing witness. Your body is always awake even when you are sleeping. Witnessing you since you were formed in the womb. Celebrate your body every fucking single day 18. I know it’s hard to believe it, but no one is out of your league. Even that pretty boy with great hair and a smile that would shatter your heart. 19. Pick a handful of people you truly trust to call you out on your shit. Not everyone gets that privilege. 20. Write poetry. Scream your heart out with poetry 21. Fuck them (literally and metaphorically). 22. Be a bit like that Dutch woman; annoying, outspoken, and assertive 23. Love is freedom, yes. Love is being witnessed, accepted, and seen. Don’t give up one to get the other 24. Other people’s opinions of virtue and “demure” should not cloud your judgment or self-image 25. Forgive and assert your boundary. Don’t let one allow the other to slide 26. Feel everything deeply, don’t let a stone unturned in your heart. Allow the pain to soak you to the last dot in the deepest cell with the firm belief that it will subside washing off some people or situations that needed to be washed off 27. Love bombing happens in friends too, be careful 28. Second chances aren’t granted. They are earned 29. Love the boy, allow your heart to break. Your capacity to love will expand. Don’t regret your love. 30. Your intentions will be a beautiful reminder if things didn’t end up the way you wanted them to end up 31. You will be living rent-free in their minds and hearts. You taught them things about themselves they never knew, and you made them feel love they didn’t know existed before you 32. DO NOT SHARE YOUR THERAPIST DETAILS. BIG FUCKING MISTAKE. 33. Your cats/pets are healers and teachers, meditate on what they are teaching you about yourself 34. Every soul has their own whims and faults, and while no one owes you anything, it’s kind and courteous when communication takes place 35. Don’t settle for what you know in your gut is what you deserve 36. Listen to your gut. It has the wisdom that your fleeting heart and analytical mind might miss. 37. Feel the cracks of your heart with your fingertips. Hug them, sing to them, mother them.. just remember not to be them for a long while 38. Your youth, time, heart, and body are yours to keep and decide whom to share with. Be assertive in your “fuck you”s. 39. Make more eye contact with strangers. Remember, see and be seen 40. Please oh please, don’t bite your tongue ever again. Speak your heart again and again and again.
My therapist gave me a homework She wants me to stand up Infront of a crowd and read my poems, She said as a therapist myself I’m carrying a lot of pain that’s not mine, And that in doing so; I’m only sharing glimpses of mine with only the closest people.. or whom used to be the closest. In doing this; I’ll be lifting some of the weight off of my loved ones that complained from the burden of me.. and instead be witnessed by strangers..
My therapist doesn’t know how much it hurts when she says.. hold it lightly.. it being my love for him..
How can I hold my love for him lightly when it overwhelms every cell of my being through and through..
How do you not pour yourself into something from the first trustful kiss? Asking to learn not to challenge.. I said to my therapist.
How do you not walk in love with a man that held your hand on hospital beds?
They say the lesson will keep on repeating till you learn.. what if I don’t want to tame my love? What if I want to walk around pouring love into hearts and have mine filled.. sometimes.
Don’t get me wrong; my heart has fire and trees, dew and wrath.. my heart is the epitome of Sekhmet and Bastet.
And my heart is mine, I’m sharing it out of the goodness of it with whom I deem worthy.
And then he says he feels jealous from other men not because he has feelings for me.. but just of other men.. it’s a masculine thing he says.. and “not a lover thing” the lover part in me whispers.
Now I sit with a part of my heart broken.. maybe just a little bit, chipped.
Now I sit with my heart chipped from the part where gardens started to grow red carnations.
Now petals are spilling from between my left ribs.
And the taste of loss feeding my tongue with soreness.
I’ll sit down here.. slowly. Just trying to gather my toes and feet. Don’t worry it’s just a repercussion from sobering moments. I’ll find my ground, any minute now.
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