The style of reading and interpretation of words differs from one living soul to another. One may absorb nothing from reading this while one may understand every meaning that lies in every word, every sentence and every stanzas. Thus, Untitled. - N.A.A
Even when our wings are fully grown, we will still not be ready to fly. Everything will be different when we are free falling for millions of years down an endless hole of lessons, mistakes and even more mistakes:
An inch here,
An inch there,
It slips.
This mask that you wear has been slipping numerously for a while now.
Everyday it slides an inch further
Until finally you’re just hanging by metaphorical wires and fibers,
Like a victim of hit and run,
slowly dying in the trauma from what has happened.
With nowhere else to seek and to run,
but to the stars and galaxies out of sight.
We spend so much time immense pressure to be perfect,
completely missing the point of absolutely everything.
Chasing the dollar instead of faith,
Polishing the ego instead of relationships,
Flaming the anger instead of taming the patience,
racking up hours upon hours on things that have no permanent pleasure and satisfaction.
Only realising this ruthless life when we lay in bed at night and cry of the stillness of the life we build.
Only realising that in a suspension of sound and animation,
the energy used was just for a face to glare over for faces that lit up with love and relief.
I’ve seen it all before,
Every person,
Every face,
Every piece of garbage carried by the wind at the sidewalk,
I am not surprised by anything anymore.
Months flying off the calender like the casualties of war and rape cases,
I’m just holding my head above water with sharks circling in the dark below.
We move fast,
die slow.
Already buried in debt,
Before getting buried by dirt.
Letting our credit scores define us,
Placing ourselves in a certain order against the rest of the society as a class than as a whole.
Sadly, we only realised this when we're slapped by failure or insatisfaction after years of building a life out of sand, only for it to be praised by the wind but crushed down by waves.
I know it hurts to know your place.
But it's okay.
Things change and so will you,
Even the most beautiful clock needs repairing,
Gears lubed, tightened and attuned,
Polished to last for a few decades
When you fall in the great scheme and chain of everyday function,
remember that the masquerade of money, fame, anger, hatred and blood does not work anymore.
You’ve run your course with it before yet you accomplished nothing.
So used your mistakes that you buried underneath the miles of sand and in deepest corner of your heart,
That mistake has memories you can rewatch but not repeat.
Do not be afraid of it,
Make friends with it.
Get to know it better.
Try to understand that there IS and ALWAYS has been way more to you than you could ever realize.
Tides will come and tides will go. It won't be long till a ride comes to take you away to safe grounds and discreet pleasure.
Till then,
Bite your lip and keep that grip.
Love, Adzilla.
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Proofread by Ilyana Elisa & Illya-Wardina
Published by Aisyah Hanim
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