olive branch



last night, i was sobbing inconsolably, crying, and crying and crying over something i can’t control. ana was telling me that she loves me – “there’s two of us in this relationship, you can’t do this to us”. she was yelling at me the whole time, grabbing onto me all night, leaving black and blue stretch marks, begging me to stay, not to leave, for i was the only thing she had the ability to control, nothing more. “it’s for the best,” i reminded us, and of the pieces of her still engrained in me, like the little white lines that are peppered across my arms and legs, and the web of pessimism that doesn’t seem to end in my mind. yesterday, ana was my only confidant. she lulled me into a noxious dance, and i tucked a lock of brittle hair behind her ear for the final time. today, i greet the skies with a sob of relief and i give an olive branch to ana, our battle gently coming to an end. we slow dance goodbye, a pas de deux as realisation transcends – becoming a fine line of the mind we once were.

 

Farzana Ali an aspiring author from Birmingham, currently in her third year of studying English and Creative Writing. Writing is something she used to put all the nonsensical thoughts she has onto a page. Through it, she explores the struggles of mental illness, the hardships faced as a South Asian, Muslim woman through prose and poetry. Along with writing, she is also obsessed with the moon and night time which you may find scattered in all of her works.

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