Even Better Things Don’t Feel Like You.
It’s only April,
except it’s not only April.
I don’t know how long
I’d keep mourning
the idea of what we could have been.
I’ve not been the same
since last summer.
Nothing has felt the same.
“Same,” I mean,
nothing has felt like you.
Even better things,
don’t feel like you,
like us.
I don’t know how many seasons
I’d keep packing
for a journey we’d never take.
How many mornings
I’d smile,
because I imagined the version of you
that would have been perfect for me.
I’ve written you into poems,
because my poems are pieces of me,
makes me feel like you’re still a part of me.
It’s funny, we never stood a chance.
Still,
I have all these “what ifs”.
They say you were not good for me.
To be fair, I agree.
But beneath everything,
I always wanted it to be you.
Maybe it could still be you.
Maybe it would just take another universe,
and a timeline kinder than this one.
~Hadiqah.O
I wrote this poem on the 14th of April.
Right now, I’m going through a bit of writer’s block, so I thought I’d share some of my older writings too,at least it means I’m still doing something. And honestly, I think they’re pretty cool too.
Someone told me recently they couldn’t wait for me to start writing about romance. The truth is, the very first poem I ever wrote was about love. I’m not sure if it was romance exactly, but it was definitely about love.(probably about my mom)And since I’m a hopeless romantic, it’s not surprising that I find myself writing about it again and again.
I started writing because I was fascinated by the words of some of my favorite modern Arab poets—how they could love and hurt so deeply that their pain turned into masterpieces.
I don’t always know why, but I’ve been hesitant to post my intense writings. Maybe it’s because I feel people might assume everything I write is something I’ve lived through. I’m not sure if I want to confirm that… or deny it. 😂
(Though sometimes, I simply write in the spirit of the poets I admire.)
Anyway,here’s to posting more of what I love , and to growing into the kind of writer I’ve always dreamed of becoming.
Also because somewhere out there, someone might need to read them as much as I needed to write them.
Please post your intense writings.
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