Malak El Halabi Quotes

Count your salted wounds then name themlike the stars of a bright constellationCount your scars and bruises then give themthe wings of forgiveness to fly

Be your own solace

Now that your eyes are open, make the sun jealous with your burning passion to start the day. Make the sun jealous or stay in bed.

And I will remember how we made the sun blush every morning.

It was the moment I heard your laughter. The moment I heard us laughing, two cascades in the middle of a desert, careless and uninhibited.

There is a hole in the heart called "absence". You live in it my dear.

You are the Arabian stallion that neighs on the crossroad of my heart ache covering me with the dust of my own ardor.

Like a tenacious ivy, your presence clings onto the drab wall of my existence. Cling harder onto me love, like a blood sucking bed-bug who is never satiated.

He says "You are my property" and I feel relieved. After all, no one wishes to shatter what he owns.

When the wind blows in your face, when you feel you are losing your head, when the going gets tough, and when all else fails, look inside you, you are not alone.

I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...

The sea is in your eyes. Your face is an eternal summer. Whoever told you otherwise is a fool!

Build my night with your cheeks.

No one made sense of the love they shared. They didn't get the hang of it either. But together, the clocks of winter stopped.. And autumn's fallen leaves turned, swiftly, scarlet.

You don't need an ocean to feel like you're drowning. You feel it, between your chest and your throat, the weight of it stretching you outside your self, like a dead fish on the shore.

You have the face of a man who gently caresses field flowers and dandelions. And a smile that is like a dagger, cutting the sun in halves.

There are people that damage you for life. The day they walked into your life will forever be a turning point you will use to label and count your years with... Your own BC and AD.

I want to be the thought that takes your mind off the road and your hand off the steering wheel.

There was warmth in his large piercing brown eyes. The kind of warmth that tucks a child into bed. The same kind of warmth that dries your wet hair on a rainy December afternoon.

I watched you storm towards the restaurant door. It was a chilly December morning and the birds sitting on the high wires in the neighborhood refused to fly any longer.