For The Better, For You : With Love, Thamrah.

Elsewhere : 'Homecalling'

She was up, before the crack of dawn. Sleep had evaded her, despite counting sheep and slow deep breathing.

The only other thing as good as sleep, or better, is poetry.

She slid out of bed and grabbing her notebook, opened the door and went outside.

Need to apologize to someone ? Poetry.

Difficulty validating her feelings ? Poetry.

Her go-to solution to everything ? Poetry.

What better than poetry ?

She sat down on the ground and after carefully positioning the book on her knee, started writing.

She had been having nightmares frequently for a while now. She saw her abduction over and over again. When she wasn't having nightmares, she saw the kind of dreams that left her with heartache whenever she was able to recollect them.

I shouldn't have loved you. But I did ...

Will I ever forget you now ? Or am I destined to relive my love for you through my words while I'm holding hands with someone else ?

She sighed deeply as she began scribbling the poem down. She had recently noticed a pattern in her poems - a lot of them seemed to be indirectly meant for him. Even when he wasn't who she would be thinking about while writing.

Is this because I never received closure ?

'Aah, fuck it.'

She had accidentally said it out loud. Her train of thought was broken, bringing other things to her attention. She looked down at the notebook, her eyes narrowing as she took in each word, wondering what it was - what she had felt with an intensity like no other.

Was she still feeling it ?

No.

Then explain to yourself where all these poems are coming from ?

She shook her head in exasperation. She studied the poem again.

Ohh my goodness ... I did not write this.

She looked up from the poem. Her lips slowly parted as she softly whispered the thought which had just come to her.

'What is this ... '

She stopped. She did not dare complete the rest.

She scribbled her thought down and then, read the poem once again.

'Homecalling',

I used to call it

But was it really?

Was I excited to be home

Cause of the waters

Which were as blue as

The bluest sky?

Or the tall coco trees

Which danced gently

With the breeze?

Or was it the waves

Which roared louder

Than my demons ?

Or the breathtaking

Sunset which never

Failed to amaze me ?

I would love to choose

Any of those.

Or perhaps – as much

As I deny it –

Was it that boy

Whom I'd unknowingly

Fallen in love with,

Back there ?