The World by Raghad Al Rijraji

Posted on May 22, 2011 by


I love you.

I love you with all that I am, with all that I was.

I love your winds and colors and million scattered suns.

I love you despite the day that you slapped me for the first time on my cheek’s tender flesh, your palm kept connecting with my face over and over, till the print of it was itched across my cheek bright red and burning hot.

And I wasn’t able to stand on my own two feet.

Falling from you, to you.

Loving you was one mistake I’ll never regret. It is the ultimate way for me to live.

Flaws cloak you from head to toe, run like a river in the morrow of your bones.

You don’t know how to speak gently, you only shriek words in shades of black and grey. You are a mystery, one I never want to figure out.

You burn the book of my past and take delight in sprinkling the ashes over my head each night before I go to bed. Page after page of crushing disappointment and lack of courage welcome me in my dreams. And you just can’t seem to hold your laughter when I wake up drenched in cold sweat and fear, cursing you while dusting off the shadows that cling to these choking ashes.

But I am a sucker for you.

A sucker for your wild scent.

A sucker for your rebellious road dents.

A sucker for the noise escaping out your church bells.

I can’t help but taste you over and over again, one lick of you and my taste buds would shiver from your exotic taste.

It is all so overwhelming, my nerves would explode like hand grenades, tinting my core a blinding golden hue.

Because you do love me, too.

You do love me when you smile behind my back.

You do love me when you grant me to look at all the wonders that exist in your summits and in your brightest constellations.

You do love me when you sneak in the morning to pour inspiration in my coffee.

You do love me when each day you bring me my far away home with your breeze so I can tickle my lungs with the smell of it.

I know holding all of you in my arms will burn me up in your flames; consumed. But I just need a tiny bit of you to hold; your heart, your magic, your essence, and even though it will sting so horribly I promise not to complain… much.

And I’ll be honest with you, there are a couple of fuck-yous whispered behind your back, there’s rage for all the raw emotions you fed me, and I don’t think I’ll ever really forgive you.

But world, if you’ll let me?

I’d like to stay with you here, for 1994 years.

Posted in: The World