I believe in me,
I like me in the mirror,
I am happy,
I could improve,
I shall try,
I am motivated.
I married into a family where women were treated as dust,
One day we had guests,
My husband slapped me,
Threw things at me,
Then started to abuse me verbally,
He wanted to silence me.
I know my worth,
I was important,not garbage,
I took courage and hit him hard,
Forced him to apologise,
Now he respects me and supports me.
I am powerful.
My mother-in-law too,tried to bully me,
Flung choicest insults at me
Ridiculed me in front of my friends,
No way! I inhaled confidence,
Tossed doubts about my ability out of the window,
Straightened her firmly.
We have peace at last!
I am exuberant.
Allah too,puts you on tests and trials,
I do my utmost to embrace the
challenges,
By His Grace I manage,
I am energetic and earnest.
To beg and borrow I detest,
We manage to live within my huband's  income.
I am accountable.
I hate envy and jealousy,
I distance myself  from gossips,
Instead I visit the sick and the aged,
I help the widows and orphans,
I am organised.
A smile costs less than electricity,
Mine is contagious,
I have a sense of humour too,
I spread my happiness,
It is my goal,I am ambitious.
I am not perfect,
I make mistakes,
I struggle to overcome them,
I want to make my today a better tomorrow,
I am at peace.
I am the mistress of my own thoughts and emotions.

Don't you dare speak those words.

You know exactly what they will do,
to you,
and to him.

There will be no more
you and him.

Like the peach blossoms
broken from the delicate, young branches,
the verbal hail storm,
the weight of the ice,
will knock him to the frozen ground.

Raw,
Unsure how much affection he can return,
of how his own whirling thoughts fit with yours.
Your tale, far from fairy, will end.

Your open heart will shrivel,
like the salty sardines you left on the wooden picnic table
in the burning sun.

You will regret your thoughts and
you will regret your feelings,
but know, sadly, there was nothing left to do,
but leave too soon.

i want to touch
your body
like a man in heat —

rub fingers up your legs .
kiss peach butter lips,
and make you
sing,

i wasn’t made to be in love ,
i think .
.
i was made to be
loved :

like a feather, or
a death.

i will run
my entire life.

we bloom in summer.

Do peach petal tears stream down her heart?
Drinking sweet nectar from her lips,
My eyes fall upon gold coated truths
Forever pouring from her throat.

Your my peach.

I bite into you
Because your delicious
And sweet
And filling

My face
Covered in your juices

I wipe the juice away.

Just one more bite
And I'll have eaten
all of your best parts.

But I don't want your pit
So I throw it away.