Skip to main content

A Rose Death


Death is not black, it is every shade of pink. It starts with a feeling of being high. High on an idea. A misconception. Death is a burst of color, every hue of happy. It overtakes your every thought, every breath, every beat. Death is love in disguise. It is everything we thought we wanted or presumed we needed, but time heals everything. Time reveals the reality of everything. Death can only fool us for oh so long, but here I am facing death. My pink death, my rose form of grief. Nothing is harder than grieving someone who is alive, ending a life -even if only in your mind- is a burden. A heavy burden. I can proudly say that at 18 I surpassed this. I have grieved my pink and I have made it past every cherry blossom out there. I can stare death blankly without fidgeting. I have withdrawn the hue of pink I thought was its’. It is now black, just like every other minuscule death that is of no value. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Scene in Yemen; January 2024

  "The past is a place of reference not a place of residence" this is a sentence I have to constantly remind myself. It is okay to look back to ponder then proceed, it is life nothing more, as tough and as complicated as it can get. That being said; I never choose to revisit the past, I cannot decide whether it is due to fear or rather being past the past. I choose to deem it as acceptance, that it is a chapter of history I can learn from but should never mourn upon, although I usually choose the route of not looking back. January 5th 2024, Friday, was one of those extremely rare days that I sensed I was sent through a time capsule, 8 years back, early 2015 to be exact. As I heard the sound of the war-crafts bolting through the serene blue sky of Sanaa, I was triggered. My first reaction was to run holding my head down, waiting for my home to come crumbing down to the ground. My rapid processing mechanism was concluding that Saudi is back at bombarding us, in sequence with th...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Power of a Decade

I remember my excitement for 2010 I had just turned 11 and the world seemed to be my oyster, I had a whole plan set out for myself. I was a hardheaded child with a plan, a well thought of plan, I was going to graduate high school at 17 and start university directly after, as a law student of course, and Harvard was the obvious choice. Nothing seemed too far, nothing seemed unreachable, every dream I had was valid, every dream was a possibility. It is hard to reminisce the past, how all that energy is long gone, I blame this war for it.  In February of 2015, I was sixteen preparing for my AS-Levels to elevate my chance of getting into a league school, my life revolved around books and studying, I would stay put for six hours straight without budging studying maths day in, day out. I missed out on so much all for an exam I never took because the moment this aggression began all hell broke loose, everything was cancelled and I was left to panic and cry that my life plan wou...
1 comment
Read more

Eight years later; the story goes on

The silence is frightening, like the calm before the storm. I am so used to their sounds, their thunders, now all I hear are my thoughts. As I wait for the silence to pass, this calm is now the unknown. I hear the airplanes passing and I can't help but shiver reminiscing when it all started eight years ago, when all I knew was silence that was cut off, always in a sudden, to hear a speeding warcraft above my head about to take away the lives of tens of people at once in a matter of seconds. How can I justify or explain to myself that these are not war crafts these are airplanes, the airplanes that used to sound so natural to me. The airplane that little children would wave at just eight years ago, those same children are teenagers now, and the children today would never wave at an airplane because it never is an airplane, it is always a hovering, killing machine about to take out little kids just like them. Times change and although there is a truce there is no serenity, just the f...
Post a Comment
Read more