I tell myself I’m that independent girl

who has her own shoulder to cry on

who doesn’t need anyone but herself,

I should be after what happened the last time

but I’m lying to myself because

sometimes I just need a crutch, someone to lean on,

when my bones are broken and

I can’t see with the blood in my eyes

but it’s hard for me to trust anyone

Last time I did,

I ended up with a mouth full of gravel,

more bloody body parts than I started off with

and a heart that was dripping tears and desperation

But when you look into my grey eyes

and you see a tempest, not forgotten hopes,

you see storm clouds that bear thunder, not the smoke that drifts away

I want to try all over again,

So let me take your hand,

don’t injure me so that I am forced to

After all

You can only break someone so many times

until they never heal again

You can only push me to the ground so many times

until I never get up again.


Originally published on my blog, please do go and check it out. If you enjoyed reading the poem like and please share with friends and family wherever you think appropriate.

‘The Sehrish Thing’ by Sehrish Ahmed

I’m a poet and a writer and an optimist and just me. I see artworks in the clouds and messages in the seas. Love letters in the flowers and melodies in the rain.

I see the demons on our shoulders and the lights in our eyes. The glass is half-full unless it’s empty. The chicken could have come first, who cares anyways? The world can be a dark place so let’s light fires and watch them burn.

I’m random and impulsive, I do before I think. I’ll plant seeds in your garden, please open the gate. I love the flames and I love the cold, but sometimes I like the sun’s warmth on my toes. I like neon lights too, the stark contrast, fluorescent colours and pitch black.

Journey with me to my mind’s darkest crevices. I like to be cryptic, just humor me please. Maybe you’ll try to understand me in which case I’ll clap for your failed attempt, I’ll even write a poem if you cry for me. Yes, I have a soft-spot for crying humans, the way to my heart is definitely the salty H2O that your eyes so graciously produce.

Sometimes I like to pretend to be a person who’s not me. I’m not insecure, I’m not self-assured, are they lies? or are they the truth? I don’t know but never mind. I can choose to be who I want to be, the nice me or the mean me? the boring me or the exciting me? I change my personality like clothes everyday.

Again, I’m spouting horse-crap. Just stop reading already. But go read my poems, okay? Just follow the link below. And like them if you like them. Don’t be fake, please. And follow me too, it’s ambrosia for my soul.

The Sehrish Thing

That’s me

Most popular poem – Invisible

My personal favourite – When Inspiration Strikes (honestly, I don’t have a favourite, they’re all my babies but if I HAD to choose then that would be it)



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Ruinous Love

in retrospect

it was the worst time of my life

love is such a ruinous thing

it never …

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She raged like a storm

but she cried like the rain

She was the roaring lion

but she was also the cowering deer

She was the ice that froze your heart

but she was also the flames that thawed it back

She could stomp you out

like a cigarette beneath her boot

but she also had the cigarette nestled between her lips

Hers could be the arms pushing you underwater

but they could also be the ones that were your anchor

She was the ferns that tickled your feet

but also the thorns that drew your blood

She was everything you loved

and everything you hated.


Originally posted on The Sehrish Thing

Please hit the like button if you enjoyed reading the poem and comment below with feedback, opinions etc. Also do go and check out my blog for more work like this 🙂

Tiny Spaces

I loved him in the places where weeds grew

in the cracks between pavements

in the narrow alleyways littered with burnt hopes and dreams

I loved him somewhere between forever and never

I loved him somewhere between poison and elixir

I loved him somewhere between the light of the sun’s first rays

And the dying of the day

I loved him in the endless fall

between the jump and the crash-landing

In between the hours of the day

In between the creases on my forehead

In between fighting and giving up

In the little glitches of time and space

In between the street lamp and its glow

In between lightning and thunder

In between the mirror and its reflection

In the breaks between living and dying

I loved him in all these tiny spaces.


Originally posted on The Sehrish Thing

Please hit the like button if you enjoyed reading the poem and comment below with feedback, opinions etc. Also do go and check out my blog for more work like this 🙂