The Nectar of Pain

by Najwa Zebian

  © 2016 Najwa Zebian

  All Rights Reserved

  Book Cover Design by Wajeha Chams

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  A dedication to you,

  fellow human

  These mountains that you are

  carrying,

  you were only supposed to

  climb.

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  CONTENTS

  The Nectar of Pain

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  Why The Nectar of Pain?

  They asked me,

  How is your soul able to

  give so much love to

  this world?

  I said,

  There is a

  sweetness in

  the nectar that

  bees seek

  for honey.

  There is a

  sweetness in

  you that

  every sting and

  every pain

  seek

  to make love.

  Do not allow your

  pain to make you

  bitter.

  Turn it into

  the sweet nectar

  that your soul

  contains and gives

  as a sign of

  strength and resilience

  after

  it is shattered.

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  The only chapter in this book:

  After the end

  Moving on may take stages,

  yes.

  But humans do not heal in

  clear-cut steps,

  no.

  One moment,

  you may feel completely healed

  and the next moment,

  the scent of a breeze

  that reminds you of them

  breathes the pain so freshly

  back into your flesh

  and rips your heart

  into pieces

  once again.

  You forgive them one day,

  and the next day your

  self-worth

  screams

  into every vein of yours,

  paralyzing you,

  begging you

  to be angry with them.

  Some spend a lifetime

  healing,

  and some spend a lifetime

  wanting to heal.

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  Before you start this journey,

  This collection of poetry that I share from my soul with you follows what most of us go through after experiencing a painful heartbreak. Overall, there may be stages of healing, but cleansing yourself of the pain day by day, hour by hour and second by second is the real struggle. Healing is not as predictable as we would like it to be. We may take ten steps forward one day, and take twenty back the next day. As we walk this journey together, some poems will address you. Some will address the one who caused the pain. And some will address myself. Yourself. Ourselves.

  Take a deep breath.

  Let’s begin, after the end.

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  As I mourn the loss of your love,

  my heart cries.

  I tell the memories of you

  that I love you

  and that I want you back.

  Your memories fight back and tell me:

  He never loved you.

  He never loved your smile, nor your lips.

  He never loved your vision, nor your eyes.

  He never loved your touch, nor the creases on your hands.

  He never loved your innocence, nor your fair skin.

  He never loved your thoughts, nor your mind.

  He never loved your care, nor your heart.

  He only loved your love and the way you loved him.

  You made him king, but there was no kingdom to rule.

  You put suns in his sky, but the night was his home.

  You made him a knight, but there were no battles to fight.

  He never loved you, but he loved

  the reflection of the man he saw in your eyes.

  But listen to me, my friend.

  You never loved him either.

  You just loved being the queen.

  You loved being the sun.

  You loved being the woman behind a great man.

  You never loved him.

  You loved having something to give.

  Someone to fix. Someone to please.

  You see, in love, you don’t get what you want.

  You get what you think you get.

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  Once upon a mistake,

  I loved you and you loved me.

  The sun shined brighter than ever in my sky,

  and I felt like heaven could not be close enough

  to my

  happiness.

  After I spilled my love into your heart,

  I said to you that I was sorry for hurting you,

  although I did not understand how

  my love

  for you

  could have hurt you.

  After we fought our fights

  and caused each other pain,

  only because I loved you and could not let you go

  and you stopped loving me

  and wanted me to let you go,

  months upon months,

  and tears upon tears,

  letters inside letters,

  and hopes inside hollow hopes,

  I wrote to you.

  I begged you

  to not leave me,

  but

  you

  left.

  I wish I could

  wrap my heart around you

  to make you feel

  how I feel about

  you.

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  I did it again

  because I was too stubborn

  in my love for

  you.

  Like a bird with broken wings,

  I stood in front of you,

  and I said to you:

  I cannot let you go

  because I am so uninterested in a reality without you.

  If I imagined falling asleep next to you

  and waking up next to you,

  if I imagined allowing you into my space

  and allowing you to invade mine,

  if I imagined growing old with you

  and letting the child in me play around you,

  how can I hate you?

  I don’t just want attention.

  I want your attention.

  I don’t just want to be wanted.

  I crave you wanting me.

  I crave the love you had for me.

  I want you to love me.

  If it’s time that you want,

  I will wait.

  Just tell me that we will have someday

  what we had one day.

  You told me that

  we never had anything.

  You told me

  not to wait.

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  I often close my eyes

  and replay this in my heart.

  You held my hand so tightly

  and took my breath away

  as you softly sealed my lips with your finger.

  “Slow down. Rest your soul,” you said.

  And with your other hand,

  you shed darkness over my eyes.

  With that, you stole the beats of my heart.

  “I’m scared,” I said.

  “I know the way,” you said.

  We walked and walked.

  We talked and talked.

  You put my worries to sleep.

  You ignited the warmth of love in my heart.

  You became part of me.

  And I was you.

  We were one.

  We
were one.

  I put my heart to sleep inside yours.

  And when I opened my eyes to the sun in yours,

  I saw only the sun.

  Not you.

  You left and stripped the heart out of me.

  I am still in the forest,

  lost without a map,

  waiting for you to come back

  and show me the way.

  You said you knew the way,

  remember?

  I still cry every time I read this.

  I still don’t understand

  why you left

  and never came back.

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  Why was it so hard

  for me

  to let go of you?

  I had no home.

  And with that, I was content,

  because

  I never knew what it felt like

  to feel like home.

  So you built a home for me.

  And I finally felt like I belonged.

  All of my scattered pieces

  suddenly

  came together.

  Somewhere,

  I put my heart to sleep

  as you cradled my worries away.

  I woke up one day,

  cold,

  abandoned,

  without a roof on top,

  without windows or walls.

  Without you.

  And you wonder why I am unable to let you go.

  Before you, I never knew what a home was.

  You gave me a taste of heaven.

  And with your hands, you took it away.

  Once you enter heaven,

  you can never live again

  the same way.

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  Once upon a time,

  like a child.

  I ran to the footsteps of your door.

  I left the letter I had been writing for days.

  I feared you’d see me, so

  I quickly knocked and hid where

  I could see you but you could not see me.

  For nights on end, I wrote to you with

  my heart and soul.

  I got lost in my lines, hoping that you’d

  read me between them.

  I wrote my words so they wouldn’t show through my eyes.

  I wrote:

  “I captured the stars from the skies

  and put them in your eyes.

  I took the pearls from my oceans

  and placed them in your hands.

  I played the strings of the most beautiful melodies

  to the beats of your heart.

  I loved the darkness out of you.

  I walked your heart home.

  But I did not realize that my home became dark

  and that my heart left my heart.”

  I waited for you to open the door,

  to read my letter,

  to read my heart.

  As you opened the door, my heart fell.

  As you opened the paper and within a moment ripped it into

  pieces,

  you ripped my heart out again,

  as you did

  once upon a time.

  Now I realize that

  you cannot make someone

  listen to you or hear you

  if they do not want to.

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  One day,

  you will tell me that

  you wish you never left.

  And I will tell you that

  I wish you never came back,

  that I wish that you did not walk away.

  But you did walk away.

  You will tell me that you missed

  the look of love in my eyes.

  And I will ask you if you missed

  the tears that my eyes cried

  the day that you walked away.

  You will tell me that you wish

  I would give you another chance.

  And I will tell you that I wished

  you never walked away

  when you walked away.

  But you still walked away.

  You will tell me that you were not

  yourself when you walked away.

  And I will tell you that I was not

  myself when I thought that

  you were the one.

  So do me a favour and walk away,

  this time because I do not

  want you to stay.

  Now I know that it’s important

  to realize the power I have

  over your presence in my life.

  Even though you chose to walk away,

  it doesn’t mean that I was abandoned.

  I could choose to walk the other way, too.

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  You told me that you were broken

  and that you wanted to heal.

  I did not know that your soul was glass.

  I did not know that your heart was dark.

  You aimed the broken pieces of your soul at my heart like arrows.

  I broke my soul trying to mend yours.

  My fingertips bled as I

  weaved your soul back together.

  And my eyes dried up from the tears of my pain.

  I always believed that pain cleanses your soul as rain cleanses

  the

  earth.

  So I let my heart storm through my eyes.

  And once your soul came back together,

  you told me that

  I

  was broken.

  You told me that you were not a doctor

  and that your words were just words.

  You told me to move out of your way,

  because who would want a wounded soul like mine?

  And now I turn to my heart.

  I turn to myself to say:

  My dear heart,

  forgive me.

  Forgive me for breaking you as I healed others.

  Forgive me for making you beat to the happiness of others.

  Forgive me

  for not listening to you.

  I promise you from today,

  I promise you from this moment,

  to put you first.

  And put me first.

  Now I realize

  the power of

  forgiving myself.

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  There once was a spark for you

  that built a home in my eyes.

  And with every step you took

  further away from me,

  the night sky fell into my eyes.

  It turns out that not every song is worth

  singing,

  not every mountain is worth

  climbing,

  not every race is worth

  running,

  and not every war is worth

  fighting.

  I loved the parts of you that I did not

  own.

  And you owned the parts of me that you did not

  love.

  So I am taking my love back

  today.

  And today, I am giving

  yourself

  back to you.

  Just because you choose not to

  climb a mountain,

  it does not mean that you have to

  carry it.

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  Everyone who tells you that they know how love works

  tells you what did not work with them.

  Just because it did not work for them,

  it does not mean that it will not work for you.

  Some fall in love in moments,

  and some fall after days.

  Some fall in love over the years,

  and some spend years

  falling

  in love.

  Some realize after years that it was not

  love.

  Some fall in love with their eyes.

  Some fall in love with what they hear.

  Some fall in love with the feeling of

  falling
r />   in love.

  Some express their love with words.

  Some express their love with action.

  Some express their love through touch.

  And some need touch to feel love.

  Some need flowers to feel loved.

  Some need diamonds to feel loved.

  Some need words, and some need promises.

  In love,

  you get what you accept.

  In love,

  you get what giving

  gives your soul.

  I’ve learned not to listen to what

  doesn’t work,

  but to what does work.

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  I look back at the moment

  I knew that I fell in love

  with you.

  I wanted to tell the world

  what it felt like,

  so I wrote:

  I never knew what they meant when they said, "you'll know,"

  until

  I knew.

  And I never knew what they meant when they said, "time

  heals,"

  until

  I felt free.

  Now I know

  that I never really knew

  and that I am free

  not because I left you,

  but because I came back to

  myself.

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  To you,

  reading this,

  I will not tell you that

  "you'll know" or

  that "time will heal"

  because, to you, my words might sound like

  they once sounded to me,