🥀

I recently also started writing some essays (actually only one right now haha). i would be honoured if you guys check it out.

thankyou so much, here’s the link : https://substack.com/@ishratmumtaz?r=6sa6ao&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=profile

Not because the grief has left,

but because it has learned to live without spilling.

I try sometimes, to summon tears,

as one might knock on a door

long abandoned.

Nothing answers.

Since I exhausted them on you,

three years of relentless mourning,

of nights where my body wept

even when my mouth could not explain why,

The grief remains,

It has only changed its form.

It no longer moves outward.

only another page I turn with quiet hope.

Each January, I whisper the same prayer:

may this one be gentler than the last.

Life has humbled me enough times

that I no longer ask for miracles,

just a stretch of days soft enough

to breathe without bracing for impact,

a year that teaches no harsh lessons.

And maybe one day,

when the final dusk of December falls,

I’ll look back and finally say:

Their life glows brighter after me.

And I watch, smiling, pretending it doesn't matter to me,

the object of a man’s desire.

something pretty to look at,

a body before a mind.

I’m not here for the gaze

that lingers too long

or the compliments that come

laced with control.

What I want

is the same power,

the same doors wide open,

the same chances to rise

without having to shrink myself

to fit inside their comfort.

Let them look

but let it be with respect,

not hunger.

Let them see my strength

before my skin,

my mind

before their fantasy.

I am not here

to be wanted.

I am here

as if it were nothingness.

A hollow echo through my mind.

Where death is cheered and pain ignored,

And silence sharpens every sword.

Hatred blooms where love once lay,

Trust dissolves and drifts away.

Wounds run deep, yet eyes stay blind—

A wish to be near you,

where silence speaks your name.

I wait for the moment

when my eyes can shut the world out,

and your laughter lingers

like a ghost in the wind.

We run—hand in hand—through fields

that bloom only in my mind,

where time is kind

and the world forgets to end.

But somewhere deeper than sleep,

I know:

this joy, this closeness,

was never meant to be held—

not here, not now,

Now that you took it away from me,

Everything else is just a blank canvas in front of my eyes