Anything at all

Until the day you took
Me out of town,
Driving us in your new
Used car
The day you first caressed
Me into
That gentle loving touch,
I thought the world
Only existed
In my mind.

All this was not
Just a thought anymore.

Since you left
(Even though your house
Still stands on that
Street of our eyes' first
Forever now,
There are only thoughts
Left existing in my mind.

Was there a reason
For all the car rides
That always had
Destination points?
What purpose was the
Couch for that we brought
With such havoc?
I still sit on it and
It doesn't bring
Back the way we were in love
Even after a long day.

The longest day is the
Life time now
You left me alone in-
When days go by on the couch,
I'm done with making dinner
And I wonder at the end of the day
If I've done anything at all.

~Maryum Khalid~

The dance

Some dance to remember.
Some dance to forget.
I dance to remind you,
Over and over,
That these flowers on my
Body are seasonal.

Because every year
When Autumn comes
And my roots show,
You don't remember
How to love me

~Maryum Khalid~

Our love

The sunbeam that you felt
In a melody.
The virtue that you felt
In looking into the lock of
Her hair.

Dangling leaves but we
Never feared
Because attached we were
To the rose plant.

That was our love.

~Maryum Khalid~

I remember you used to

I remember you used to take
2 tea bags in a single cup of tea
And I found that strange.
And the way your bus tokens
Just lay around your house
Or how you used to teach me
Stuff like
What a long espresso
Actually means-
Because I remember actually
Googling it
While I was in the kitchen
That night when you tried
To explain
The process on the phone,
Like we used to be at it
For hours at a time.
We used to talk for hours
And you wanted to know
Everything about me.

Till this day I question
How blind I was about
Your teachings
And doings.
Though you wanted a touch of
All the earth in me
I still don't understand why
You choose to keep me
In the dirt and dark
Your true obsession.

I ask why you kept me
By your side
When you knew
You would one day let me go.

How you managed
To lie
To my innocent eyes
And my inviting lips
I just don't know.

What did you need
Me for?
Why couldn't you
Just beat me
With the truth
Rather than beating around
The bush-
Whilst getting me fresh roses?

But no matter how many
Questions are circling
My psyche-
No answer or explanation
Would be enough to understand
How you could take bit by bit,
Sacrifice my soul of virtues
For your pleasure.

And how is it that
I still think of what
I gave to you
And what you took from me
When you didn't really
Give me any truth at all.

~Maryum Khalid~

Happy Anniversary

Today is the anniversary of the night I got raped. Let's celebrate. Eight years. What? Does that sound not right to you? Why should we only celebrate wedding anniversaries, birthdays, and "the day we first met"? (Oh wait, it was the day we first met). Why should I be taught to not remember when and how I was assaulted? Just because these moments aren't real enough to be validated by the justice and the legal system, why should I sweep it under the rug? Why can't I keep indulging, in my naive mind: push towards the wall, there's no escape, hits and smashes and pushes you down, rips you open and enjoys himself, and tells you not to make a sound- and I didn't; I couldn't? I don't know. Millions of people walking the earth and you're asked to play dead. Why shouldn't I go through with remembering that? Eight years, three degrees, relationships, money, independence, travelling, heartaches, conquering fears but still, I don't understand why that night and what followed brings heavy tears. I don't trust, never hold onto anyone close, run away as soon as I sense "comfort"- thousand emotions and voices in my head keep telling me to look for some other world. Well, I'm standing before myself today, it is my anniversary, and I am happy to say it is because I allowed myself to feel and cry and be angry, and learn from it that I'm here today. I don't look at that self and pity her. No, I am not a forever- victim. No, I decided to save myself. I'm standing, looking straight in the mirror, and I'm saying to the woman I see, I'm saying happy anniversary.

~Maryum Khalid~


"Do you know that your words
And actions have hurt me?
Do you know that your words
And actions have hurt
This relationship?"

"I know my words and actions
Have hurt you.
I know my words and actions
Have hurt this relationship".

We went to the badlands;
Climbed and climbed.
I went up and took my
Arms out
So he could grab onto it.

But the best part was
Reaching the top
And teaching each other
What it meant to be
Connected at that moment.
And learning to forgive each other
At the top of it all.

And then looking down
At all our anger, agony, unresolved
Expectations, misunderstandings,
Loneliness and heartaches
Didn't seem like much at all
Except that these needed
To be
In order
For us to overcome ourselves
And now, hold hands to face
A new beginning together,
In truth.

"Are you willing to keep
At holding our hands?"



~Maryum Khalid~


25 weeks have passed
And I remember
As it were yesterday-
The sun's rays;
I wore the blue dress
And had my back against you
Yet you still
Managed to have my back.
And in the midst of it all
I wore red nail polish
And it was going to be the day
I forgave you.
Except you went past me,
Left me standing
And still I didn't understand
Until I allowed myself
To believe for a moment
You could take advantage of me.
And I saw for the first time
You'd been violating me.
Yet still I wonder why
I still hope you
Are beautiful to me.

~Maryum Khalid~

Susana Chavez Castillo-I remember you


Susana Chávez Castillo (November 5, 1974 – c. January 6, 2011) was a Mexican poet and human rights activist who was born and lived most of her life in her hometown of Ciudad Juárez.[1]

She is credited with authorship of the phrase “Not one more”, which was used by the civil rights organizations and their supporters struggling to clarify the plight of women in Juárez and to end a wave of killings aimed specifically at women since 1993. found murdered and mutilated in the “Colonia Cuauhtémoc” section of the city of Juárez where she was born and lived most of her life. Positive identification of the remains took place on January 11 of that year. She was 36 years old.

(Read and pass on. Honored woman who stood tall for the women in need.)


Blood of my own,
blood of sunrise,
blood of a broken moon,

View original post 503 more words

Won’t do

A pool of tears won't do.
A trail of blood is not enough.
Enough about trying
To do this alone
When there are a thousand
Voices inside about a million
Ways to settle.
When drowning is not enough
Because you've been down
But you're still breathing.

Unfortunate or not,
A pool of tears just won't do.
What does it though
Is there
Some days
And gone
Soon after.

What is "it"
When you know you control your
But still you haven't
That inner peace,
Mastered healing yourself.

~Maryum Khalid~

Photo of a rose, still full of life, by me!