HURT.

Vol1
Saad B. Binabraham

© Copyright Saad B. Binabraham 2022

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 And you were always in my heart

As if you wear never anywhere else

You look the same

I can see you But you can’t

Not because I’m a ghost

But because I’m a steel mask on a idea

The one who has chosen to be my own enemy

Dear whomever my next lover is

Keep your memories, keep my share of blood

And leave.

Maybe we never broke up

But we will never meet again.

And we still alive as if love is ignoring us

And I’ve said if I died tomorrow, I’m satisfied

I have enough memories, and I miss the future.

Let me practice in your presence the poetry I wrote in your absence

Maybe my day is having a plan for me

As if life goes any easier for those falling from their God’s eyes.
 Come to me my love

Let the world rush-on by

While the heavens are fleeting above

Come away, you and I.

For the lights fade on the plain

And the lark flies to her nest

And the fox seeks out his den

And I long for your breast.

The night was made for rest

And I am weary of day

And would faint on your soft breast

My love, come away.

 Reckless

I’ve always been reckless

Seeking for a killing experience

I keep reminding you that

This poem took me the same amount of time

To write

As it’s taking you now to read,

which is a very, very reckless thing to do

so I shall be very reckless and seek a killing experience

fighting a professional wrestler

can be reckless

driving drunk on a highway

can be reckless

loving you

can be reckless

so I shall be very reckless and seek a killing experience

so that you finally come, my beautiful death

kill me,

asleep, or awake

kill me,
laughing or crying

getting killed, might make me as immortal

as a martyr or a prophet.
 The moral of the
following
poem
is this : don’t let
anyone tell you what
you can and can’t do
except the one you love.

They say: poets don’t rejoice much

And if they do, no one would say they’re wrong..

Before I’ve met you

The only things I wrote were for my classes

I never wrote poems, stories for anyone but myself

My dream had completely shattered

Probably because the one who was supposed to inspire

Was not perfect at it, and I’m glad she wasn’t

And no matter what, there would always be better writers

Better poets,

better lovers .. out there

I decided I was going to be journalist instead.

It wasn’t until I met you, and you gave me the fuel

You gave me my passion for writing back

I realized that I had wasted so much of time not being with you

When I should have been. I had been with someone else instead of knowing you

Instead of writing for you, and now, instead of retirement

I’m writing this poem to declare how deeply , and how honestly I am …. Completely
in love with you.
1

funny how all my good poems, are the "break up" ones I'm worse when I'm

comfortable. happiness drives my inspiration away, and somehow you knew how to

spread that "happy poison" into my veins that spooks me, and now here I am,

conquered all my fears and as he got you, I got my poems, my words, just words but

enough speaking of it, did he find the pieces of you that you’d forgotten in me?

nevermind, just give me my poems back, you could have token my arm or my legs

even, but not my poems you sick fuck, what kind of twisted psychopath would do

that?

you seem happy now, I'd say that I hope you suck at writing poems too but then

again I remember you weren't much of a writer. funny, how can someone who’s

really good with "words" fails to write them down. you seem happy, happier than

when you were with me. looks like you moved on and I'm still moving on …. slowly.
 forever in my heart

I can’t undo , what’s already been done but ..

Whatever happens between us

I want to make sure you know that you’ll be forever

In my heart.

I can’t undo what’s already been done

Life played her cards well

And our closure has finally come.

I can’t undo what’s already been done

Everytime I think of you

I discover new things to love

Things I look for whenever I meet someone

Things such as the freckles on your face

The honey melting in your eyes

And the taste of your lips which reminds me

Of my mom’s delicious plate of cinnamon bun.

Now I can never undo what’s already been done

am the Alpha in the story

and you’re the Omega of my heart.

But It’s not about us , our timing is bad.

And the devil in me had to be brought back.

Now I don’t know what you believe in

But all know that life is too short

And baby that’s a fact.

Better live it to the fullest

Because once you’re gone

You ain’t never coming back.

I don’t know about you

But I can’t live my life surrounded by all of these throwbacks.

In matters of life and deaths

In sickness and in health

You’ll forever be in my heart.

Leaving you was the hardest thing to do , but it had to be done.

 Maq’dissi

I silenced my heart,

As if my heart is a small kid crying in a mall

After letting go of his mom’s hands

And he said: “I’m tired and weary of day

Tired of chasing tenderness

As if love is the last molecule of air

In a poisonous gas chamber,

You’re fucking irresponsible”

So I said to my kid-heart: “I have forgotten you

Since we bought the one-way ticket to the land of Abraham

With you as my reason, we took too many losses than we could afford”.
 I used to love something…

I’m seeing a dream that no one is seeing

I remember that before,
I had seen a dream that no one had seen
And I remember that I couldn’t wake up
I mean Awake, but couldn’t get up,
Sometimes, something inside you
just don’t want to wake up
Eyes wide open, no energy to get out of bed
Trapped.

I can’t turn my brain-face from the wounded spot

I can’t even do anything nor allay a feeling of
helplessness
There used to be mosquitoes waking me up
Sucking the blood out of me and flying around the crime
scene
I used to follow them with my eyes circling the room
Silently through their journey to the blue light and then
.. BUZZ, they die.

I used to love poetry

Threatened with insanity from the beginning “are you some kind of a writer ?”
I’ve made it into something like a quick thought and
scratches on a paper
I wanted it to be a magazine or a famous blog or something
Maybe a gift from a hopeless romantic to his lover
Or even an academic matter studied by people until they
were dizzy

I used to love a lot of things

Nowadays nothing seems to be worthy
And without the love, what reason is there really for
anything at all?
 Why You Need Me?

Have you ever had a very public fuck-up ?

Have you ever been in the midst of a very shitty day?

yet people around you, your childhood friends

and the nosy people

felt obliged to remind you

and to add comments on your humiliation.

Now imagine consuming that much negativity

yet you have to keep on carrying a massive weight on your shoulder

and the trick is, you can never quit.

they all need you to stay

whether they block you out you when you feel down

or they hate on you when you fly

they still, for some reason, need you alive.

 dead man’s poem

I brought this burden on myself today

when I recalled the devil back from my arsenal

Lord I ain't trying to die this way

it might seem hard to believe but

living devil-free for a man like me is unenforceable

my brother brought the Jack again

whiskey bottles here are all affordable

a lot of my brothers don't seem to understand

Hell knows it all to he worshipful

damn it sounds too hard to tell

left the numb and caught the hate instead

Lord, I ain't back to mines again

he's diabolic thoughts are absorbable

keep moving on mama, straight ahead

too many sins on my shoulders

it's gonna be quite difficult to confess

fill my river with the Daniel Jack

scars on my heart made me a brand new man

shook off for the last time my brother's hand

move along with your life dear friend

I poured the whiskey on my hall of pain’s walls

took the last look and burned the whole damn place down.
 Hurt

Oh darling

I've been astray from you too long

I dwelled in the house of the devil

For ages, waiting for that bell

They say he who defies his God's will

May forever live forsaken, in the depths of hell

Oh darling

I've dwelled among the fallen angels

Lived amid the dead

Flying crows all around

Whiskey in my breaths

I shall fear no evil

For you are in my heart - still

Until Gods falls from the sky

Until death, do us part.

 Shallow Grave

The dead in me, and the living are no longer apart

All kinds of signs are showing to me

and I refuse to live a life as a slave

so make sure it's understood

that I am no longer worried about my faith growing cold

Or the light bearer releasing my soul within a dark grave.

This time I'm going Home for good

free of me, free of hate, free of love

I'm no longer waiting for many years

Nor relying on God above

I'm no longer hiding the pain behind my tears

Nor losing a fight while my hands are in boxing-gloves.

 Dear Beherit

No, this is not my poem.

I'm only writing it to its owner

and taking my heart back.

I couldn't face a life without her smile.

They say: He with the broken heart may

Forever live in exile

This unknown is killing me.

O king of the Night

My poor bleu demon

carry my coffin away

nonchalant about the lost ones

no more blood pumping in my heart

I'm too tired of wrestling my dark thoughts away

furthermore tired of losing the fight.

O beautiful creatures of the dark

sacred forsaken diabolic angels,

pray for my lost soul

may the light-bearer bless my sacrifice

And the demon-king brighten my grave with a feather-light.

 O bleu demon …

There it goes again. The sun refuses to shine.

For the third time this week,

the rain pours down on me

and I shade down tears in my glass of wine.

I can't escape this prison of a life.

I can't decline the only thing that it's mine.

Ain't no refund for a life you didn't sign up for,

and no grave digger would dig a grave for a leftover of a man

from his moral duty quit and resign.

 MIND OVER PAIN

I was preparing myself.

Or at least I thought so.

I knew life was going to get harder.

But yet I've let myself feel sorry for myself

When things began to seem unfair.

Such a lucky species man.

Our minds are fucking stronger than we thought

To bear this much pain, this much bullshit.

And still keeping our thoughts clear

And keeping us sane. But a motherfucker like me

All I do is, getting ready and prepared

For a war with myself that am going to loose

Which creates a whole new identity

Therefore a whole new mind.

The old one is fucked.

 MORTAL LIFE

A Poet, he once was

but then his poems never stood up to the skies

when he saw his reflection in the mirror

all of his poems died

and all his lines came hunting him in the night

like beautiful demonic lullabies.

O bleu demon my poor loyal friend

take me to those damned eyes

to a place no man can see

no witnesses can be found alive

am no longer willing to live in this reality

cover my eyes

I rather live beneath the mercy of your beautiful mortal lies.

 THE POET

Up there, where the stars touch

And the angels spend an eternal life together

a young poet write love verses to his lover

but the lover is nowhere to be found.

So the angels asked him: why you keep writing?

"because I write," he confidently answered.

They frisked him for a life.

And all they could find was his heart.

They frisked him for his voice.

And all they could sense was his sadness.

 as the days go by

as the days go by

I become more and more transparent, and I smile.

as the days go by

I get better and better in hiding the havoc in me.

I care less about my existence

and more about the stars

wondering if they will ever come together.

slowly, and as the days go by

I disappear in your eyes like a shy dream.

Imagine if I were there and not talking to you,

what would be the fate of love in a world that changes as the days go by?
 Not To Hate

am fully aware of what hate can do to a man

yet, when they kick you down

break your legs and paralysis your senses

hate seems like the only rational thing

it's too hard not to hate,

especially for a soul that was drafted to love.

little that y'all know

how hard it is for me not to cave under the weight of hate

and all the awful things I feel in my heart.

when I look back at my life

I realize that I spent more than half fixing what's broken,

and yet everything seems to maintain the state of havoc.

I have no idea when or how I got myself here

nonchalant about it, time is up

la Santa-Muerte is coming for my soul

and the gravedigger is ready to fill the hole.

 forgive me if you please

my love for you grew cold

my heart's doors are closed

Furthermore, in deep skies, we dumbed the keys.

mighty God, mighty God

do not let me die alone

within this emotionless grave

guide me if you can

the human in me is gone.

Farewell my love

am afraid I will leave alone

my faith was to grow numb

and the time for me has come.

Hate.