Dreams

by Sidra Amir

There are days I tell myself I'm happy,

and I suppose it’s true.

Days when I'm throwing my head back 

covering my mouth as I shake,

laugh, tear up, hold that stitch in my stomach

as my friends say stupid things,

and I have a split second moment,

the briefest of thoughts;

I am happy.

Then the sun sets and brings in the dusk;

and while it's my favourite moment of the day

there's a burning ache in my heart,

a thrum for this moment to never pass.

A desire for it to never fade.

A longing for someone to press pause on it,

because as the night draws on,

that carefree grin fades to one of sorrow;

etched like a tattoo gone wrong.

The stitch fades to dull hollowness,

and my thoughts are racing yet silent;

a stallion in its prime and also a young foal,

one that can barely find its footing.

It's nights like these,

quiet and dark

that, while I love

also make me realise

I am many things:

I am happy, I am sad

I am joyous, I am miserable

I am carefree, I am anxious

I am uninhibited, I am restrained

but most of all, I think

I am just empty.

Sidra Amir is a 21 year old currently pursuing her MBBS. She started writing prose and poetry as a small hobby and is currently slowly starting to write more. She also takes photographs, and makes portraits alongside custom poetry.

visual by ahad ali.