Writer: Menna Abdelfattah
Editor: Abdallah Sobhi
“You deemed what you wanted as a request
And I agreed to earn your upmost respect
I thought that this was my long awaited quest
You gained what you thought you’d never get
The ‘whatever it was between us’ was only a method to quench your thirst
The ‘whatever it was between us’ was what I gauged worthy of me and my rest
On the contrary, it was probably the best to neglect
Because the ‘whatever it was between us’ was swiftly scrutinized;
It was too worn out, that I thought a glitch
It was looked down upon, that I thought a foible
It was roughed around the edges, that I thought a scratch
I turned my head the other way whenever I had the chance
To run away from the truth I couldn’t stand
The once-thought attention I justified
Was nothing but a condign punishment I’ve brought upon my welfare
You snatched it away without my ‘I accept’
Nonetheless, I still went on without a hand
Because how could I go on with succor?
The second I muttered those words,
I was banished;
I was thrown away like a piece of garbage;
I was tortured by their ignorance and their silence;
I was in solitude;
I attempted to bestow upon them the truth of your nature
I went through hell and back
Just to try and prove them wrong
They think you’re all saint-like
They think you’re the best companion,
I mean ‘anyone is lucky to have you’
Is the most used word around here
At least, they believed
I don’t know how you convinced them of that,
I can’t grasp the idea of you being an ‘angel’
You were more of the ‘devil’ to me
Maybe you hypnotized them to buy your act
And I was the one who can look past your charade,
Or you might actually be dealing with them the same way as you do me
And they’re exceptionally similar to you that they don’t think it’s weird
It’s uncomfortable to be unable to crack your codes
The feeling I get when I try my hardest
To gather all the scattered seeds you disbanded
Is exhilarating.
It’s full of potential;
It’s exciting;
It’s marvelous.
I feel as alive as possible,
I feel like I have a purpose,
I feel all right.
But I just can’t seem to find the roots that’ll make them upright,
Then I feel devastated,
I feel incapable of doing something,
I feel useless.
Then again, what am I good for?
I can barely harvest my domestic rights
Then comes the feeling of hatred,
Bitterness, loathing, hostility
They all come at once,
Some are directed towards you,
But most are conducted to me,
To my failures,
To my griefs,
To my weaknesses,
To my slip-ups.
I hope with all of my might that you burn in hell for what you’ve done to me,
And I will be able to re-assemble myself again, I believe.
Because the once-thought fairytale of ‘whatever it was between us’ was only a spectrum of my demise,
It was my own hell hole that I vow not to repeat
A glass cannot be glued again if it is broken,
So they say.
And I sure as hell am glad that I’m quite a piece of artwork that is not made of glass,
I was never the believer of them anyway.”
