Her soul, tormented
Alive by indulgence
Scrapping up for the smallest
Crumbs of life
Filling herself up
But never enough
Walking through loopholes
Only she knew of
Never full
Always at the sidelines
No matter what she did
Mirage of being at the center
Until it hit her again
That she couldn’t be full
That she could only miss you
While watching herself watch you
From the spiral, she was thrown into
Never full
And it ate her up
Amplifying what was overbearing
A drama she was bound to
The drama of the watcher and the watched
Never full
And if missing you was all she could do
And if asking you for more she couldn’t do
Be not a stranger the next time she passes by you
-Imane Ben
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Author’s note:
Thank you for reading the last piece of poetry and post before I take some time away from updating this blog. Honoring the time to do a reset will allow me to come back stronger and with more authentic content for you.
I will be back soon. Until then, be gentle with yourselves and embrace who you are.
With so much love,