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A Woman Who’s Worth It

The annoyance of what woman is worth it. The annoyance of constantly walking the world of wondering if you fit the description of a woman who is so called “worth it”. I mean, tell me world. What does a woman look like, act like, live like that is worth it?

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A woman who’s worth it. The annoyance of, what woman is worth it. The annoyance of constantly walking the world of wondering if you fit the description of a woman that is so called “worth it”. Living today’s world of diversity, that is cramped into stereotypical views. The woman who plays hard to get is worth it. The woman who acts guarded is worth it. The woman who doesn’t let you in at first is worth it. It is best to uphold this. Obviously after you worked hard to be consistent in running after a guarded, hard to get, hard to open up woman you definitely know her well enough that you can see a future with her. She’s the type to bring home to mama.

I mean, after all, you do not want to be that easy girl that is not worth it.

Because, you are that easy girl. But are you worth it?

There’s nothing to be proud of the girl that likes to open up easily, likes to show emotion easily, likes to care and show interest easily, laughs easily, smiles easily. Because, you know, it’s being easy. Oh, shoot, wait, we actually tell people to love, to give, to share positive thoughts and actions with each other freely, especially free from expectations. We’re taught to be a good example. Now, is that being easy? Still, not worth it. Since it means he doesn’t have to work hard. But really does he not have to work hard? I mean, aren’t those lovable traits that are attractive? Attractive to the world. The entire world filled with many men. No. They are easy traits. I know, I speak of innocent traits.

Whereas, a woman who spends the night with him on the first date is a woman you know everything about. She’s a woman that will not be brought home to meet mama. You’ve learned so much about her in that one date, evening to night hours you spent having dinner, watching a movie and being physically busy. She could never be worth it. Fun moments cannot be worth it in the long run.

The annoyance of what woman is worth it. The annoyance of constantly walking the world of wondering if you fit the description of a woman who is so called “worth it”. I mean, tell me world. What does a woman look like, act like, live like that is worth it?

©Macca Malik

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Alive

In my own way. I feel alive. Every time I’m able to witness your smile. As you lay beside me and my heart. There’s moments I wish you’d lay there forever. Staring in my eyes searching for every insecurity to diminish. But it’s okay. I will see you another day.

I will see you walk into my space with care only to lift my soul. Naturally aware of our spirits intertwined. You and I. You and I. Such a clear sound gracing my ear. Without any fear or doubt. I channel my inner love to meet your heart. A doubting heart. But your eyes resting its glare on my lips as they crack into a smile, your heart is warming up to meet me. In my own way I feel alive. Every time I get to witness your smile.

©️Macca Malik

Enough for me.

Like a tombstone. I feel locked in this life. A space of nothing. Keeping my body sacred. Feeling lost in a world of depression. Minds that linger around deception. A constant fight to see the light. Day in and day out it’s a constant fight. There are smiles that find its way through engraved sadness. I cherish those moments. Hold on to those moments. Those are the best moments. It’s instant healing that can leave within a second to another world and leave me lost in pain. Leave me wondering why I am alive. Leave me wishing I was found within myself. It’s not anyone’s help I yearn for. It’s my own. To feel strong on my own. To feel loved by me. To feel that I’m enough for me. That’s what it is. She struts with confidence that is engaging. Speaks with wisdom that is sought after. Imparts knowledge that will last through the test of time. He has his chest out, with his spirit standing tall as if he were the tallest man alive. Sharing advice as if he lived through it all triumphantly. I reach that experience at times. For an ever wanting moment. Just to lose it a tearful moment later. Like a tombstone I feel locked in this life. But it’s always open.

©️Macca Malik

It felt like.

She felt close to him more and more each day. She felt her entire body yearning for him, it wasn’t a game to be played. Such trustworthy feelings all the while he was pulling away. So much he became as distant as one can be. It’s not understood how she could want him although he didn’t seem to feel the same.

You may wonder how her heart & mind could still be filled with passion and desire for him while he looked the other way.

It felt like her dignity was fading away. Her tears becoming the same old game. Her depression eating her sanity away. It felt like repetition of trauma she’d already faced. Still He was sincere and gentle in his own way. Attentive to her feelings during a nights visit when he stayed.

He was everything she wanted and more each day. There was no mutual feeling going both ways. Lonely is a two way street with a car only going one way. Lonely is a two way street with a car only going one way.

©️Macca Malik

The Window To Your Soul

It is said that eyes are the window to ones soul. Can I see yours? You do see mine. Do you not? I know you do. There is never any fog. It is opened windows all the time. No dirt to cover up and hide my soul from. No reflection to distract you. It is all clear. Clean. Right there to stare down. You know it is. When my eyes truly see you in that vulnerable moment you open your windows slowly. I see your soul. It is beautiful. It is honest. It is caring. It is deep. It is scared. It is gone. Just like that, the window blew shut. We start over again. Or not at all. I cannot fathom the thought of ‘not at all’. Let it not be rushed then. It shall take its own time. Just be here with me, seeing deep inside me, watching me give you mine to look at. To let yourself be inspired to open those windows again. I am here. Just know that I am here. Patiently waiting for you to invite me in once more. I am here. Embracing the strength in your eyes, because they are the window to your soul.

©️Macca Malik

Here I am

Here I am sad and mad. Lost in a fad of terrible emotions. Dying inside and crying aloud. Wondering who’s hearing me shout. Who hears my song cry. My mental break down. Who’s hearing me scream for help with a shut mouth. Here I am hoping you know. Hoping you’re reading my mind. Hoping you understand my excruciating silence. Isn’t it clear as day. Can you not see my pain. All of the sorrow I Portrait. Isn’t it clear as day. Pretending you deeply know me but you don’t. Telling lies of getting close to me but you won’t. You wouldn’t know a bow from an arrow. You reap of story telling. Make believe and “I’ll always love you” lies. You reap of the reasoning I’m sitting here, writing a “Here I am..” poem staring into the mirror, looking at my face full of tears as I continue to cry.

©️Macca Malik

One Story

Music lead my way into that cypher with hunger and fire transcended by the musical rhythm that was taking me higher. There was something to release that wasn’t just coming from me. Familiarity that was passed down purposely. Stories that I carried on my bare back and bones. Like the strength of my ancestors stories untold. Their fighting through struggle and pain, just for me to step into that cypher again. There’s stories to be told that will inspire a world full of souls. There’s stories to be told that will shine truth on what we thought we know. There’s stories to be told that will unite us in many ways we can grow. Just as the music lead my way into that cypher with hunger and fire transcended by the musical rhythm that was taking me higher.

©️Macca Malik