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By Manahil (@onestrawbebbypls)

My world is falling apart and I’m making tea

             it smells like I’m nine and my definition of home is

                                   dipping biscuits into my nano’s chai while she finishes 

                                   the last two rakats and waits for it to cool

                        In 1978 a fisherman found a large collony of seagulls and their babies all dead

                        the seagull mothers all but flew and fed whatever they found near the coast

plastic and oil spills and toxic waste

                            the local newspaper printed an article titled:

                            ‘A mother’s love kills’

                                                                  I think about that alot; love is of course an act of violence

I wonder if the little seagulls ever asked for anything other than the bestowed 

I wonder if they were ever afraid 

bellies full, throats clenching 

The tea begins to simmer 

Strain 

Sip

Sigh 

                                     I know I won’t drink all of it 

                                     I never do 

                                     But my world is falling apart and all I want is to go back home

                                                                               -manahil 

Based in Lahore, Pakistan she's always found writing the means to translate her thoughts; with love being a recurring theme. She sifts through the emotions and turmoils that come with choosing love in a society where religion and duty are forefront