Zahra. I just kindda wanna travel and be nice. Radio and Television Arts student at Ryerson University. I enjoy art and history with a splash of poems. I am over penta-lingual yet still not satisfied with my limited vocabulary.
Pakistani Canadian
Twitter/Instagram: @SultaanZahra
August 21st

1. In 2nd grade a boy called me fat, there hasn’t been a day since then, when I loved my body

2. At 18 I found myself locked in a restaurant freezer with a boss who was trying to use his hands to convince me that sex with him was part of the job.

3. There were nights after you left, when I filled my bed with everything that you touched, hoping to fill it with something familiar.

4. The moon warned me not to come see you that night, it hung low trying to touch me. When I
left you, it asked me how could I hate myself so much.

5. When you didn’t call I had to delete every memory of you I had, but you still lingered in the cracks of my walls.

6. Someone once told me that my body was a war zone. The day that I finally understood what that meant, I was bleeding from my forearms trying to recreate the crucifixion.

7. West Indian women are known for having children but being too strong to have men. I’ve never understood the fear some people have of women who expect as opposed to women who hope.

8. That night I wanted to drink until my nose bled, but you were best at shaming my sadness.

9. I hated my legs for never being fast enough to escape the cannibalistic hands of clawing men.

10. I am wrinkled from all of the times I’ve folded myself to fit inside someone else.

11. She loved me so deeply, but I could never love her back. I tried though, I promise I did.

12. I haven’t cried in almost two years, and every time I see you, I pray for rain to end this drought, alas, I am still desolate.

13. My dreams sometimes make me physically ill.

14. I am a glass house and you are David.

15. That night I got so high, I hallucinated hell, I promised God that was my last time.

16.I drank so much that night I thought wine was pouring out of my eyes.

17. I’ve searched for God, but he is elusive and I’ve been destroyed by my own hands.

18. I wanted you, but you didn’t want me.

19. I still want you.

20. I don’t know my history, and now I don’t know myself.

21. I wrestled you out of that quarter, and then you wrestled me out of my virginity.

22. Forgiveness exists, now to convince myself that nothing is too great to be forgiven, that is the trick.

23. The late night bus driver asked me why I was so sad, I asked him what he meant, he said “when you got on my bus, you brought sadness with you”

24. You asked me who hurt me so badly, and I was too proud to say it was you.

25. I clamored drunkenly into the back of the cab, the driver was playing Surah Al Mulk, flooded in shame I whispered astaughfirullah to myself beneath my breath. The driver turned to me and said “Allah is forgiving and we are all weak sometimes” changed my life.

26. I had a panic attack when I saw you in the mall holding her small perfect hand.

27. There are doors that I’ve closed forever, if they were ever opened, I am almost certain I would die.

28. My mother hates my writing and it reduces me to a sprawling mess on my bedroom floor, often.

29.I have frequently looked up synonyms for broken.

30. I am scared of my own darkness sometimes.

31. How will I teach my daughter to be nothing like her mother?

32. When the winter comes, I am almost always as bare as a forest.

33. I have to learn to forgive myself.

34. I am so many people, all at once, fighting to survive. This is why I am a perpetual civil war.

35. Blood doesn’t scare me, but disappointing my father does, and my God, have I been known to

36. The hundreds of missing indigenous women in my country, make me feel like I’ve lost hundreds of mothers.

—  Key Ballah, 36 Flavors of Self Loathing (via keywrites)
"You are so used to your features, you don’t know how beautiful you look to a stranger."
—  (via bl-ossomed)

do you remember the first time you were called annoying?
how your breath stopped short in your chest
the way the light drained from your eyes, though you knew your cheeks were ablaze
the way your throat tightened as you tried to form an argument that got lost on your tongue.
your eyes never left the floor that day.
you were 13.

you’re 20 now, and i still see the light fade from your eyes when you talk about your interests for “too long,”
apologies littering every other sentence,
words trailing off a cliff you haven’t jumped from in 7 years.
i could listen to you forever, though i know speaking for more than 3 uninterrupted minutes makes you anxious.
all i want you to know is that you deserve to be heard
for 3 minutes
for 10 minutes
for 2 hours

there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart;
mostly because they can’t handle their own.

but you will never be
and have never been
“too much.”

—  Tyler Ford (via bl-ossomed)

A bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where you’re still dreaming but it’s slowly slipping? I wish we could feel like that more often. I also wish I could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere I like. I wish that people didn’t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. And I wish I could get lost in the stars.

Listen, there’s a hell of a good universe next door, let’s go.

—  e. e. cummings (via ranjhana)
"What if pleasure and pain are so closely connected that he who wants the greatest possible amount of the one must also have the greatest possible amount of the other, that he who wants to experience the “heavenly high jubilation” must also be ready to be “sorrowful unto death”?"
—  Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science (via madnessandhoney)

Heart skeleton Done 

Tattoo made by Cassio Magne.
Studio Espaço Alvorada.
São Paulo / Brazil


Heart skeleton Done

Tattoo made by Cassio Magne.

Studio Espaço Alvorada.

São Paulo / Brazil

"A soft woman
is simply a wolf
caught in meditation."
—  Pavana पवन  (via targaryaens)
August 16th

a message from Anonymous

these anons are like, "can i be racist in the rain? can i be racist on a train? can i be racist in a box? can i be racist with a fox?"







lmfaoooooooooooooo Yes!

How can I be racist if I work with blacks
How can I be racist if one sold me slacks
I’m not racist I’m just like you. I’m best friends with a black or two.

i’m not racist, you see, it’s just a preference
i love eastern culture and its women’s deference
the west lost its way with no room for clemency
If I love Asian women, how’s that white supremacy?

i’m not a racist, i can’t be, you see
my great grandma’s grandma was part cherokee
plus one time i got called “cracker” to my face
don’t we all bleed red? i don’t even see race…

I can’t be a racist, the truth is that
The woman who looks after my children is black
A Mexican cleans my house on weekends,
A Chinese lady gave me a face cleanse
The cab I take to work has an Indian man
And i get my nails done by a girl from Thailand
How can I be racist, can’t you see
I’ve got every color working for me?

whitejpeg :

I’m not racist, the n word is fine

I have left slavery far behind

Rappers say it so why can’t I?

I call my friends nigga all the time


I’m not racist but I don’t understand,
Why do criminals sneak into my land?
Besides, I know that you’re lying, a fact is a fact —
If you say you’re latinx, then why are you black?


I’m not a racist…
when I see you first

and I cross the street
while clutching my purse
it’s just my feet!

IT GOT BETTER…..This is why I love tumblr

August 15th
"America was built on two monumental crimes: the genocide of the Native American and the enslavement of the African American. The tendency of official America is to memorialize other peoples’ crimes and to forget its own - to seek a high moral ground as a pretext to ignore real issues."

Mahmood Mamdani

I have never seen such perfect sentences.

(via yamesmooma)

August 14th

Fawad ‘Dapper’ Khan



Fawad ‘Dapper’ Khan



I will unbutton your anger
until i reach its softness
and make love to each flaming inch

I will kiss your oceans on a full, throbbing moon,
dig my toes into the sand and
try not to be blown away by the high tide
in your lungs,
I will stay.

I will pull you back before your footsteps
turn to footprints and
I will flutter aplogies into your collarbone
until the thrashing in your chest subsides.

I will sing you lullabies
and try to understand the screams
echoing down the corridors in your mind.

But I will not be the floor you walk on when you walk away
I will not apologies for wounds you slashed into my skin
When the salt water from my eyes trickles to your shores
I will fight everything about you that tells me I am small.

I love you.
And as that love grows
do not be fooled into thinking I have plucked it
from the orchards of love I am blossoming for myself

When you spit in my ocean and sail away
I will not ask for you back
You are welcome in my arms and in my heart
But I am not your welcome mat.

—  What I Should Have Said | alfaazkibarsaat (via alfaazkibarsaaat)
"Part of me wants to drop out of college and go travel the world.
Part of me wants to work really hard in college and change the world.
Part of me wants to not work hard at all and marry some rich guy.
And the other 97% of me just wants to sleep."