Kategorie: Poetry

She makes me feel
Like reaching for the stars
And drowning in oceans
Like losing myself in memories of her
Sun-filled smiles
Giggling between the sheets
Singing in the rain
And I forget
How to breathe
How to think
How to be
For who am I
If not for the feelings
Brewing in my stomach
Consuming my limbs
I can feel her essence
Even in my fingertips
She has built herself
A home inside my bones
And she is clinging to my skin
Holding me together desperately
Her fingernails are
Leaving marks on my body
Afraid of losing their grip
Afraid of losing me
For she knows
I am only seconds away
From breaking apart

-Alisha Soraya

And people always
Made her feel
Like she was
Too complicated
To be loved.

Her eyes were
The color of the earth
But growing flowers
Was too much work.

Like her feelings
Were a forest fire
In the vigorous heat
Of a long summer.

Like her body
Was a flash of lightning
Beautiful to watch
But better left untouched.

And perhaps she was a force
That couldn’t be tamed
But couldn’t that make her
Lovable
Just the same?

-Alisha Soraya

 

I was used to
Giving my body
As a sacrifice
To my lover’s will
As if that was
The price to pay
When you want
To be loved
As if opening your legs
and shutting your eyes tight
and biting your tongue
and waiting till he’s done
Is a woman’s duty
But then I met her
And suddenly being touched
Didn’t feel like
Hoping it will be over soon
But felt like
Hoping it would never end
Because her embrace
Her fingers between my legs
Her lips on my neck
Didn’t taste like anxiety
But like pure ecstasy
And she didn’t make me feel
Like a sacrifice
But like a gift.

-Alisha Soraya

I am a feminist
But I am also depressed
So when I look at my hairy legs
I feel like I should be okay with it
Because body hair is something natural
They call it flowers that grow
In the garden that is my body
They call it miraculous and beautiful
And I believe them when they say it
But then it‘s also a sign
Of me not even having the energy
To take care of myself
And every little hair growing on my legs
Is taunting me
For letting it grow freely
For not being able to control it
Every hair a little sign of my failure
Like weeds in the garden that is my soul
And me not having the strength
To pluck it out
I am a gardener who‘s lost the motivation to do her work
And everything is growing wildly
And I just lay there in the middle of it all
Until the grass covers my body
My hair becomes dark roots growing into the earth
And my tongue turns into moss
I can‘t see anymore because there are wild flowers growing out of my eyes
Can‘t breathe because a tree is forming in my stomach and growing out of my lungs
My blood becomes the soil for new life
Perhaps decaying really isn‘t as ugly
As it sounds.

-Alisha Soraya