Goddess of Beauty, Petrifying!

A word creates a world in my imagination but then its flare gets frozen, then struck, then broken, then diminished in my oblivious mind!

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Dare not look me in the eye

For they are my point of strength

And dare not not look at me as I walk

On this dreadful ground, gracefully

Dare not watch me as I wash-up

In the wide, endless sea

And get mesmerized by my beauty

Capturing your evil sneak

Can you resist beauty when you see it?

Perfection, finally attained?

Can you contain your emotions?

And chain your sense of curiosity?!

Let me 

Tell you, 

You cannot!

They say I am a monstrous gorgon

Ugly, with snakes' head and death

Flaring from my eyes.

They are wrong!

I’m a Goddess of Beauty, Petrifying!

I sense perfection, 

I act to it

I immortalize it 

I turn it into a masterpiece;

A timeless existence!

Dare you say that I kill people?

Turn them into stone

When I capture their eternal grace

In a sculpture of white marble?

Let me 

Tell you,

You cannot!

It might look to you as a chaos

What looks like order to me

Nothing is ever out of place

Nothing can ever be!

My blue snakes, sizzling and snaring

Looking for what brings them life

They catch beauty at first sight 

And then beauty realizes its beauty

Reflected in my sky blue eyes!

Fairness gets me mesmerized

My senses get heightened

My snakes’ blue scales are made of glass

That reflect my bewilderment

The scales reflect the beauty I capture

Beauty capture its beauty and perfection

It is not me who marbleize them into statues

Their beauty petrify them!

I’m only their Goddess!

A Goddess of Beauty, Petrified!

Under Their Skin (Demons of The Night X)

Keep the lights on

It scares them

Keep an eye on your footsteps

And another ahead

Run with light feet

Don’t look behind you

Push the ground away

As you try to escape them

Keep the tapes running

And the voice recorders

Maximize the amplifiers

They scare them off

Don’t keep the white noise playing

In the background as you sleep

It invites them 

To tamper with your dreams

Keep your eyes on your path

As you run away

Pushing down the ground

As it tries to grab your feet 

Don’t pause your running

Don’t close your eyes

Or you will get sucked

In the mud beneath

Keep running until you bleed

And the mud turns red

And the trucks of the trees

Keep the lights roaring

And your thoughts swindling

Them into belief that they got you 

Under their skin

To Make You Feel My Love

Disclaimer: This piece of writing might be inappropriate for audience below 18

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I wanna make love to you until it feels safe to be naked in front of you.

I wanna make love to you until it feels OK that you can see every inch of my body.

I wanna make love to you until I’m breathless and I can’t recognize the universe around me because I’m so damned happy that my eyes are tearing in joy and confusion.

I wanna make love to you until it feels alright that someone can see my scars and love and attend to them better than I used to do.

I wanna make love to you until we become undone, losing each other in one another and it becomes hard to differentiate between who is who.

I wanna make love to you until our bodies collide, as our souls collide and we become one.

I wanna make love to you until our time is over, our bodies are over, and our souls are all what remain, floating in the realm of truth.

I wanna make love to you until I feel that I conveyed the amount of love I have for you, even though I doubt I can ever do!

Red Tigress

The sun shines down on her submerged face in the water, projecting itself as lines drawn in serenity. The lines are intertwined, forming a composition of complexity. It is like drawing the lines of a tigress by a fine pen of light; a pen that is determined to expose her inner wilderness in opposition to her blissful face. The water is so clear and tranquil, projecting her inner peace. She defines complexity along with simplicity; a combination only possible when peace mixes with wilderness. If she is to be defined, she is to be a perfect definition of paradox.

Her red, short hair is just as free and graceful as the gentle water that is carrying it, allowing it to float on its aurora colored surface, resulting from the refraction of the sun light in it. The colors cover her as well, making her a composition of light colors and red, a whole world of vibrant red. Her lips are vivid and lively, just as her hair is; a reflection of her flame, that is never extinguished.

She needed this, this serenity, this disconnection from a vile world. She needed to expose her disgust and get free of the negative energy that surrounds her. She is a lively person, not to be bent or broken, but in a world filled with villainy, she has to be a villain. Getting tired of suppressing her innocence that wears off a little every time she gets into the dilemma of existence, she decided to resort to purging. A sort of baptism that connects her with her inner soul of happiness and the innocence that she loses in such corrupted universe. She chose the purist element of life, and the most unpredictable; Water.

Water for her resembled life. There is no green land without water. Fire cannot be defined as ruthless without its opposite; the gentle, graceful water. The wind does not grow into a storm without rain. Water is the core of everything. It is innocence and purity combined with ruthlessness and rage. It is the most controversial element amongst the rest. Water embodied her, and she embodied it.

Every time she goes into her territory of purity and pain, she shivers as a person who is about to die but comes back to life miraculously and unannounced. She is like a person who has seen himself end, but suddenly he is up on his feet, watching his moments of death as a tape playing in agony and fear. She sees her life as a tape that ends so soon, even though recording it took ages of torturous splendors of fear and joy. She gets attacked by a stream of a deserved-to-be-mourned-for memories. She seeks purification, but it is never without a price. There is always a price that she has to pay to be able to reach back to her true moments of joy. It is a price that she has to pay to be able to reach back to her villainy, subdued by rage and vengeance. After all, no one can be vicious without being innocent at first; he wouldn’t tell the difference unless he knew where the separation line lies.

A tigress she is, in her fierceness, monstrosity, persistence and grace. She only attacks to survive; an instinct rooted in humans and animals alike. You can’t blame the darkness of the world on her, nor can you blame her on her twisted ways towards attaining survival. She is the Queen of the wilderness, as the Lion is only the king. She observes, hides, lurks then seeks, attacking her enemies and her preys alike. After all, preys are only a necessary evil that doesn’t match the fire leaching in her veins as she does what she does to sustain her durability and conceal her frailty.

After every blood bath she pursues, she goes to her embracer and her pure reflection projected on a blurry surface of hopes to be attained, farfetched salvation that she dreams of every night when she goes to sleep. She is so consumed by the innocence that fights every night in the back of her unconscious mind, yet she forgets about every day when she is awake and conscious. The water is the only way to mend her fractures and her wounds. It shows her a path towards salvation as it paves for her the road towards hell. It is all a momentary feeling of relief only to ensure an eternal war against suffocation.

In her gracefulness, there is pain. In her light, there is treachery. In every breath she is unable to breathe, she is alive. In every breath she inhales, there is a burning fire only extinguished by blood and death. The light that shines on her is only a comfort she seeks but she cannot reach, for even when she is purified, she is blind to the rays that make her grow in beauty. She is always closing her eyes, allowing herself to feel human, every time the water touches her death stained skin. She is weak in her ultimate moments of strength and might. She is a woman only vibrant in red; the colour of death, love and blood. She is only like any other woman, who is alive in red; the color of warmth, intimacy and danger.

In My Shallows

Look for me at the end of the world

When it becomes undone

Search for me in the shadows

Of what I have become

Dig beneath the piles of ashes

Stiffening by the rain

Find me in the shallows

Of my collapsed restrain

The world has lost its depth

So lost in the wide space

Ruins are what remain

Yet so shallow

So look at the fading stars

Striving to lighten the dead horizon

And when you see a dying star 

Just know that it is me

I’m walking down the curve of glamour

And kissing the breathless sea

As the shadows embrace my ruins
In their extinguished gleam

عن هيبتا

كتابة: رنا خالد

تحرير: محمد هشام

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إنها تلك اللحظات المأساوية التي تُصاحب كل طية ورقة في كتاب مؤلم بلذة ساحقة. ذلك الشعور المرير بكل إحساس ينبعث من كل كلمة مطبوعة علي ذلك الورق الأصفر الرقيق رخيص الثمن. تلك الحروف و الوقفات و علامات الترقيم التي تعتصر قلبك في كل مرة تنتهي فيها من قراءة سطر قصير جدا في كلماته ، سهل جدا في معانيه و مشاعره و لكنه طويل جدا في مُخيلتك. إنها تلك اللحظات التي تري فيها نفسك مكتوبا علي سطور أوراق كتاب يتحدث عن علاقات حب قد فشلت فقط لتعطي فرصة للعلاقة القادمة، الدائمة، في البداية. تلك النهايات التي تري نفسك فيها كل مرة و تبكي علي مدي كرهك لنفسك و عشقك لذاتك في نفس الوقت. كرهك لوجودك لأنه ليس بجديد ، عادي جدا ، تتنبأ به الكُتب و مُخيلات الكُتاب الصغار، الموهوبين. لكنك مع ذلك عاشق لذاتك لأنك قد وجدت أنك طبيعي، تحب بجنون مئات المرات و أنك لست بفاقد للحس أو بخائن لمشاعرك السابقة تجاه شخص ما. تلك لحظات "السقوط الحُرة" التي "تتأملها" في عشق مجنون لكيانك المفقود في قيود العمل و قيود وجودك المادي الحقير في جسد يُشعرك بالأسر و ذلة القوانين و الخضوع. إنها تلك المشاعر التي تغمرك في بأسها و شدتها و جنونها، فتقهرك تحت أمواجها الشاهقة الإرتفاع و سريعة الإرتطام بجسدك الهزيل، فتحطمه بلذة و سعادة بالغة في حين أن تستقبل أنت ذلك الإرتطام بصدر رحب لأنك تعلم أن ذلك الإرتطام هو المؤشر الوحيد علي حياتك. ذلك الهبوط المُفاجئ، ذلك السقوط المُؤلم، اللذيذ، هو ما ياُهبك لإستقبال الحياة كما يجب أن تكون؛ جميلة، مجنونة، مُجزءة و غير متوقعة. إنها الحياة التي تغمرك بعد قراءة كتاب كنت تظن في بدايته أنك ستمل منه سريعا و تضعه جانبا مثلما فعلت مع غيره من الكُتب. إنه "هيبتا"، سبع مراحل، سبعة أحاسيس، سبع أشخاص في أربع حكايات تعود لشخص واحد، كان مُمزقا فقط ليكتمل مرة أُخري عن طريق موته كي يحيا.

Sin

You’re the sin I can’t live with
You’re the one thing I can’t live without
You’re the demons in me coming to life
Every time I think I’m finally alive

You’re the sin leaching in my veins
Creeping in every artery
Mutating my white blood cells
Into a monstrous beast

You are the sin that I can't get rid of
You're the sin I'm born with
You're all of my demons combined in one
Coming to life when I'm done

You’re the only love I’ve ever felt
You’re the one love I can’t put off
You’re the sin that I can’t forgive
The one sin that can’t be forgiven