You Say You Are A Writer... Poem by iqra hassan

You say you are a writer…

You say you are a writer,
Then why don't you write about my eyes?
The ones that host nightmares and stars equally well,
The ones that will set your soul either free,
Or will put it in eternal bondage of peaceful hell,
why don't you write about my lips?
The ones that drank the potion of misery,
And sucked the blood of fairies,
who lived near the lake of hope and awe,
desired by many, kissed by many…
why not write about my hands,
which are fair and young yet old in blood,
embedded with lines, all carrying curses,
unable to hold on to any form of morality,
why don't you choose to write about my hair?
Which are as tangled as the fate of an orphan,
Can you see the black of my soul in them?
They smell of hyacinth but they remain baffled,
Silently lying on my shoulders and cheeks,
Watching the evolution of my naïve being,
You say you can write, then write about me,
amazingly extrovert, achingly introvert,
A series of conflicts, montage of paradoxes,
I cultivate hate for I don't know how to love,
My heart belongs to the creed of savages,
Those who dwelled in the far off mountains,
Untamed and rustic…
You say you write, then why don't you write,
The millions of stories that I hide in my smile,
The myriads of words which I am scared to say,
The meanings hidden in my saddest poems,
The continuation of my broken thoughts,
Why don't you write?