Be my valentine ... Again Posted by B.N.A on 03:51 4 comments

February 14th, 

once again spending it with a hand full of flower and a rushing mind full of bursting love words and heart melting metaphors.

I do believe in the sanctity of love, that myth that I won’t stop believing in to my last breath. The myth that kept sending proofs that it actually exists. 

Still remember those 4 month of my life, unfortunately it was past the 14^th of February, but it felt so every day.

I miss those long awkward but rewarding moment of silence, the eye talking even though the lips were melting in one another. The hair swipe and that tiny smile from the lip corner that makes us 100% sure of being synchronized.

I messed what I miss. But I’m still holding for you, every day the mind full of romance…and twice a year, a hand full of roses.

Happy Saint Valentine’s day.

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أوصيكم Posted by B.N.A on 16:53 1 comment

علِمتُ أن من الموت ما يأتي بغتة....كلمح البصر...موت الفجأة
هذا النوع من الموت نعمة ليست لذوي الحظ العاثر أمثالي

نأبى إلا الوفاة على دفعات, خوفا من الرحيل فجأة و يأسا من البقاء.
ليست لنا حياة الغير الراسية, واضحة المعالم... عذبة المذاق.
قُدٍرَ لنا غير ذلك....وحلٌ و فخاخ و حفر آخرها قبر يسكنه الجسد و تتمرغ فيه روح عطشى لما تمَنًت نيله قبل الرحيل.

قد يحِنٌ القدر و يأتيني الموت بغتة....و قد لا أحقق ما أطمع أن أورثه لمن بعدي, ليبقى الأمل في نية تُقبل.

قد يكون لي من الموت حظ....لن أندم على قرار إتخذته, لن أتحسر على شخص تركته, فاختياراتي جعلتي ما أنا عليه اليوم.

قد لا أكون من أريده....فجُلٍي صورة عما تريدون رؤيته...و حقيقتي بيني و مرآتي.

أريد جنازتي حفلا...أتلوا القرآن بأجمل تلاواتكم, و أكرموا من مر بخيمتي ....علً من ابتسم بعد وفاتي كفًارةٌ لمن خذلته و أنا حي أرزق.

 لا تُحَمٍلوا كلامي فوق ما يحمل....فما أنا إلا من أبى النوم لقياه, و ارتأى الإعتراف لكم بحب أخفاه فرطُ المُزاح.

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Blurr Posted by B.N.A on 09:33 2 comments

    

      You know what's harder than devastation?

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عودة Posted by B.N.A on 13:58 No comments

غادرت دون إنذار. تركتك وحيدة. غيرت أولوياتي و أرقامي عَلً ذلك يوفرعلى كلينا مشقة الوداع

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I'm sorry Posted by B.N.A on 03:34 15 comments

For once in my life I thought I found the recipe for happiness. For once I thought I couldn't get any happier, and I was right since no matter how hard I tried afterward I failed.

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Disgraced... Posted by B.N.A on 04:39 7 comments

      

          It was not my first time getting into that vast crowded space, everything seemed so familiar, but this time with a small yet awkward twist.

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My one and Only Posted by B.N.A on 03:25 13 comments

      

          “I thought love was only true in fairy tales” that was my case, unfortunately I am infected.

Yes, I used the term infected because I feel weak, bruised, tortured, my defenses are low, my brain gets goofy every time that long straight lined skirt of hers passes next to me.

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Free fall : past midnight confessions Posted by B.N.A on 10:49 No comments

If I ever say :”Don’t panic, I know this like the back of my hand”
You better panic: I don’t know the back of my hand, to be honest I don’t even know who I am after this time I spent living by myself.

      Me and the real me are like two neighbors that occasionally exchange greetings in an elevator, take advantage of those shared few minutes to see something new every single time, something they missed or passed by last time they were together in this metallic cubical. Therefore, I don’t know how much time would it take me to get to know me, to get on my good side, and to finally be able to understand and live with me.

      The last two weeks I spent saw him (him is referring to the real me) weak, as weak as a human being can be: emotionally, physically, mentally you name it, he was to be seen through. Couldn’t hide his anger, his frustration or his fear it was like others could read right through his mind and anticipate his words, moves and gestures. I felt pity for him

He had to have a confident, someone that would voluntarily listen to him while having his back. But I kind of accidentally overheard a phone call of him where he was shouting something about his best friend being an ass lately, so I guess farewell for the support system idea.

I was use to seeing him every morning out for a jog and then, back on time for breakfast (God I loved the Italian coffee smell that reeked out of his apartment), before going to college leaving the elevator with a musky cent of the 2011 Carolina Herrera fragrance or the Sport version of Channel’s Allure. But not anymore, I heard that he can barely make it out of his bed lately, giving up his usual morning shower and wearing whatever was in his reach. Even after 9 hours of sleep he woke up like a zombie thinking about nothing else than his next encounter with that fluffy cold pillow of his.

Don't forget to check my new article : "My one an Only" <3

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