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nihallah
2 27,174 M Aiming High 8
PathStep 3 Compassion hearts402 Forum posts2 Forum upvotes10 Current upvotes10 Age GroupAdult Last activeDecember, 2024 Member sinceNovember 15, 2020
Bio

My name is Nihal. I am a 21 years old, and I love books, poetry, movies, and music.
قوم نحرق هالمدينة و نعمر واحدة أشرف
قوم ننسى هالزمان و نحلم زمن ألطف
مازالك بلا شىء ما فيك تخسر شىء
و أنا مليت من عشرة نفسى

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Poem for Gaza
Trauma Support / by nihallah
Last post
 August 31st
...See more How much we miss the sun between October and March But this year I didn’t even notice she was gone How could we complain? All we can say is thank god the sky gives us rain The sun came out today She hugged me like an old friend And said everything is okay It's quiet outside But she reminds me of the sun who shows her face all year Seasons aren’t marked by light and darkness But by the smell of strawberries and jasmine   Somehow the sound of wind turns to drones And the smell of pine turns to jasmine The sound of playing turns to screaming  The smell of strawberries turn to death  And the smell of soil turns to dust  Dust that used to smell like home Every brief moment of joy Every laugh and embrace I remember the nurses in Gaza Who asked we write on their graves  In bold script should say:  Here lie those who love life but could not find a way to live it  But its such a lovely day?  I am standing on this quiet mountain  Walking through a sea of noise Watching the couple have a picnic at the park  Laughing and tasting grapes  They remind me of those sunny days  Watermelon juice dripping down our sleeves Sticky sand and silly gossip Singing the words hashrab hashish Really, the sea is so lovely and so blue How much blood could there be?  Does it all wash away into the sea?  How lucky are we to live near such beautiful trees? But how much blood has watered these mountains and rivers of ___? I try to remember to thank god the sky gives us rain And thank god the rain gives us trees Like the date tree in your backyard  She was poisoned in 2018  You said “I will not pull out your roots” “The sun is all you need” And you sat at her feet inspecting her seeds And generation after generation of fruit grew and fell  Ramadan 2023 she said  “Next year you will see!” “Thank you for how you loved and nourished me”  “The sun and the seasons are all I need”  “In March 2024 you will come break your fast with me” I am so sorry habibti But the fruit these days are strange They have an awful smell  How much more blood can pour into the sea?  And how much more poison can suffocate the trees?  Hiking for hours on top of rocks and stones I think of the family walking 30 kilometers south Trekking for hours over rubble and ruin I think of the girl who carried her baby brother  And that same girl who walked alone I think of the boy who ran from snipers And the boy who fell to them I kick these rocks down the path As the pebbles fly and the dust settles I look for the child buried under the rubble Like a child loves collecting rocks I want to gather all these stones  Carry them so I always have something to throw
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Writing what comes to my mind
Trauma Support / by nihallah
Last post
 December 7th, 2020
...See more They tell us lies, there is no truth in this place. They say God only gives us sorrows which we can carry, but everyone has tired arms. Too many hold bags which contain no soil and no grain. Let your arms rest. Throw your bags off the balcony. They are hollow, but still too heavy. Who is feeding us these sorrows? He says it was them, they say it was him. We say it is both and we are caught in between. And we hold the woes of these wars, and still the woes of our own. But the only place which has survived every turmoil in history is the sea. So I throw my belongings to the sea, wishing they come back to me. And I throw my sorrows to the sea, for someone to find and remember me.
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