Burning desire to write a poem

He just wanna smoke and fuck, so I guess we both speak Hebrew

Now he talking my language, but would it work when I ain’t Jew?

Rents due late, and so’s your love when we come through,

In due time we’ll cash all these memories

Stack all these memories, in my mind bank full of sanity

But your back’s turned to face me,

Face screwed up, back stabbing, always injure me

Injuries that A&E can’t stitch up, see...

The threads getting thicker, my words are getting quicker,

The bloods just iron bars, pump fist I'm a prisoner

In this dark world, I walk but run to find cover

Under my cover, stand cover when my eyes close,

The only warmth was your hand and now it’s the fire that’s under me

Ash in my eyes, sting from the morgue

Where our past lays, ashes to ashes,

No dust to dust,

Cos the dust is in my lungs, I suffocate in the prison,

But the bars break-up like us,

Like me, like you, like what the fuck

Fuck feelings, flippin' weight on my sanity,

And your carcass rots as I run free. 

-Asma Qureshi

Will Time Tell?

I wrote this in my notebook on the 9th of January and whatever motivated me to write it is probably the notion of life.

'In this generation there's too many games. 

Everyone is a player, playing their own game.. multi-player, single player, board game, interactive game you name it. 

Everyone is eager to start one then everyone is scared to finish it. 

No-one dares to finish the game because being a loser is no longer a threat.

The thing is we all want to win. 

But someone has got to lose and everyone is pretending they're winning.'

Confused? Yeah me too. I like it though, so regardless of your opinion, you have read it, thanks.