I am much more beneath this skin

beneath this pretense of adapted liking

I am much more than my face, you know

Look into my soul and your doubts will go.

I am a conflagrant mess of my own making

and there’s art in that, if you’re willing to take in.

I am the effulgence that gently diffuses

into dark rooms and whispers muses.

I am the wailing wind that whirls

to hug the lonely heart as it furls.

I am a mountain that stands tall with pride

to knock off those, who question my might.

-Iflah Laraib

 

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