Looking up at the tall mountain
The top is beautiful and sunny
But the mountain climbers
They have to face challenges
Some parts are easier, some are harder And maybe on their journey
There will be thunderstorms
Maybe even tumbling tornadoes.
No one can know
What they will face

Reaching the top may seem impossible
Especially with the weights they have to carry
Their weights lay deep in their backpacks
Where no one can see.
No one knows what another may be carrying.
Their weight may be less, or more,
or even heavier
than all of the climbers combined.
No one can know
What others might carry.

The mountain climbers start,
Everyone at their own pace.
Some build friendships,
They talk and help each other
with their weights
It seems to make
Every step they take
Easier and easier at first.
No one can know
If they will add the weight of betrayal to your back.

For some the weight is too much,
So they get hurt
Or stumble back down
To the ground
To the very start
Maybe they will give up
Completely, forever
Out of frustration.
A permanent solution
To a temporary problem.
No one can know
If their journey ends deadly.

Not many reach the top,
Even when it’s pure bliss,
It seems unreachable for many.
The climbers being left behind
They will never get to experience
The moments of peace, happiness, joy
The climbers forget
All their pain, regret,
It all disappears.
When they reach the top
They forget
What it felt like before
Not many get to know
What it feels like to be at the top of the mountain

forever grateful for you and every little thing that you do.
kindness shapes every little part of you—
makes your heart malleable,
like the dough kneaded by ami
to make me her crispy wale parathas
every day when i wake up at zohr time,
when the world has already started for everyone.

but for me—
the world drops dead when you close your eyes,
and the universe becomes tangible
only when you open them.
at the same time as me.

your voice,
woven in gossamer threads,
wraps me into a cocoon
and then slowly, slowly unwraps me
until i’m a blue morpho butterfly
on her desk,
with a 10-hour mark on her baby pink timer—
matching his white one.

make sure you do one thing at least a day:
either the pre-med questions
or the anki flashcards.

i agree.
we’ll make the chat too spicy in discord—
with firing neurons,
and “i’m so proud of you”s,
and w’s.

i’ll make sure you understand the concept of resonance energy
by making you feel it.

so when i am electrocuted by the d key,
the numbness in my hand
turns into this debilitating blue numbness
in my baby’s malleable, precious heart—
and then we fix it.

together.
with all the scotch tapes
and the double-sided ones,
and the cardboard pieces from your drawers—
piece by piece.

a 4-hour call;
of crocheting,
moving in and out
of the seams of us.

we really did become a mosaic
of all the people that we love.
maybe talking about the teachers
in your khala's school,
knitting sweaters in the kitchen
for their loved ones—
made you feel like you could do anything.

resonance energy.
you carry the same energy
of all the people in your stories—
and with your gossamer threads
pull me back inside the cocoon
when you miss me
(when i miss you)
and fall back to sleep, holding me.

so close—
we're not even a heartbeat away now.

love,
i will find a way back to you in my dreams—
where you are in my lap,
and nothing has ever hurt you before,
and nothing will hurt you again.

call out to me,
and i will be up at 6:24
to get you off your desk.
no more apex without me.

we only play apex
when i’m in your lap as you play,
tracing my fingers
along the canvas of your face,
and kissing you stupidly—
until you are senseless.

(H).ealing involves Loving, and encouraging one
(A).nother, having a mind that's
(P).ositive and not Negative,
(P).raying for one another,
(I).nspiring, and also Motivating each other,
(N).ourishing each other with kind words,
(E).mpowered to take control of your Life, through the Grace of God,
(S).uccess is on your side, and hopefully with hard work,
(S).atisfaction is Guaranteed


B.R.
Date: 4/30/2025

Each smile a map, each line a trail,
Etched softly on the skin's embrace.
A journey marked in fine detail,
The story written on your face.

The laugh that danced around the eyes
Still lingers in a softened fold,
A map of moments, lows and highs,
A quiet story, gently told.

Not every crease was born from pain,
Some stem from joy that overflowed.
Expressions that we can't restrain,
Emotions that our hearts bestowed.

So wear these lines with quiet pride,
They are the footprints of your days.
A testament to life applied,
A living poem on your face’s page.