What are they?
They charm the pants off me when a guy uses them to get what he wants from me.
I use them to hurt people and wound them and I cause absolute chaos with my father. I don't like those words.
I still use the words I learnt from Imran. He used quite a few.
"Little one" "woman" "chick" "rude" "playing games"
Certain words still remind me of him.
Swear words, they're creeping back into my vocabulary.
harsh, harsh words against my father.
Critical words against people who don't do what I expect them to do. When they almost run me over, bump into me or note ven bother to smile when I ask how they are at the cashier till - Sharon hasn't changed, even though her life circumstances have.
Words against myself. In my head. That create my reality.
Words in emails that make no sense. I am far removed from them.
My name is word. I have to change it. Suki Juma doesn't cut it. I need proper first name, a middle and surname.
I talk so much. Empty words. I'm trying to get out that which is unsettling me. And words don't do that.
"How are you?" How does one answer that authentically without being a downer.
I talk and criticise other people: for smoking, wearing make up, for voicing their truth.
I use them to plead to You, Allah.
Help me gain balance. Help me, I am lost. I am straying from myself and from You.
Bless Muhammad and his holy Progeny. And bless Imam Hussayn and the holy, pure, blessed martyrs of Karbala. And sanctify this Muharram and Safar and save the lives of people from bombs and senseless killing, unless it is in their highest good.
Make me as You like.
I am lost, again.
They charm the pants off me when a guy uses them to get what he wants from me.
I use them to hurt people and wound them and I cause absolute chaos with my father. I don't like those words.
I still use the words I learnt from Imran. He used quite a few.
"Little one" "woman" "chick" "rude" "playing games"
Certain words still remind me of him.
Swear words, they're creeping back into my vocabulary.
harsh, harsh words against my father.
Critical words against people who don't do what I expect them to do. When they almost run me over, bump into me or note ven bother to smile when I ask how they are at the cashier till - Sharon hasn't changed, even though her life circumstances have.
Words against myself. In my head. That create my reality.
Words in emails that make no sense. I am far removed from them.
My name is word. I have to change it. Suki Juma doesn't cut it. I need proper first name, a middle and surname.
I talk so much. Empty words. I'm trying to get out that which is unsettling me. And words don't do that.
"How are you?" How does one answer that authentically without being a downer.
I talk and criticise other people: for smoking, wearing make up, for voicing their truth.
I use them to plead to You, Allah.
Help me gain balance. Help me, I am lost. I am straying from myself and from You.
Bless Muhammad and his holy Progeny. And bless Imam Hussayn and the holy, pure, blessed martyrs of Karbala. And sanctify this Muharram and Safar and save the lives of people from bombs and senseless killing, unless it is in their highest good.
Make me as You like.
I am lost, again.
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