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Tuesday, March 28, 2017


Ever so delicately, you grazed your fingertips across my freckled skin.
Hesitant, as if you were afraid you’d pull on one of my petals and tear me apart.
Your hot breath raised the hairs on the back of my neck and I shivered, causing goosebumps to appear all over my body.
You traced your finger down my chest, right above my heart and placed your palm right above my racing heartbeat.
Before I knew it, you had pulled back and dug into every layer of me.
Through skin, flesh, blood, and organ; you dug deeper and deeper until you clasped your strong hand around my heart.
You pulled it out with ease and I watched a smirk fall across your lips.
I fell to my knees, gasping for air, screaming in agony as I examined the thick blood covering every inch of my trembling body.
You wrapped your arms around me, tucking a thin strand of my honey colored hair behind my ear.
You pressed your soft, sweet lips to my ear and held them there.
I felt the smirk widen.
You whispered,
“I love you.”
- m.z.

Monday, March 20, 2017


I know nothing of how
a man can lay his lustful hands on an unwilling woman
and tell her she is no longer pure.
I know nothing of how
an act of desire outshines every beauty that can be found
underneath her surface.
I know nothing of how
he can diminish the depths of her soul and the intellectual capacity of her mind
with his words of control and hate.
I know nothing of how
a human being can do this to another being
for we all breathe the same air.
I know nothing of how
a person, man or woman, can claim they can not be kind
and mindful to those that surround them.
- m.z.

Monday, February 6, 2017


You are a constellation in the midnight sky
for there is moondust in your hair
and shining stars in your eyes.
With a brush of your fingertips
against my skin,
I am gasping for the air
that can only be found on your lips.
- m.z.

Friday, February 3, 2017

My Esme

by Meena Zulmai
(Experiment #4 - In Media Res)
Through gritted teeth, trying to hold back her sobs, her voice came out raspy, as if she hadn’t had a drink of water in days.
She pleaded, “Don’t...Don’t hurt me. Please.
It came out as a whisper.
The sunlight that crept into Esme’s dark and dingy bedroom came from a crack in the old blinds that were once a blinding white but were now dull with dust.
The ray of light that leaked in made it shine.
Esme’s voice grew louder, angrier.
“You think you have control over me? You think you can tempt me?”
Gleaming. Glistening.
“Stop..” Her voice cracked, “No. No. You will not ruin me again. You will not hurt me.”
Hot tears stained Esme’s exhausted face. The thick black eyeliner she wore ran over the dark circles that practically engulfed her eyes. Her pale white skin was covered in red blotches and acne scars. Her dirty blonde hair looked like it had pounds of product in it and hadn’t been washed in days.
She let out an exasperated shriek that seemed to echo throughout the entirety of the household as her right hand inched toward the blade. She quickly wrapped her other hand around her wrist, trying to pull herself back but there seemed to be a greater force on her which continued pushing her to inch her scrawny little fingers toward the blade on her grandmother’s oak dresser.
“Please Esme... Please!!!”
Inch by inch baby. You can do it.
Her fingers hit the surface of the dresser, drumming against it.
A smile crept across Esme’s face.
That’s my girl.
One finger at a time, she inched closer to the blade. She finally stopped at the base of the handle.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She wrapped her dainty hand around the handle, lifting it to eye level. She examined it, running her index finger along the sharp edge.
I know it hurts. Free yourself, Esme.
She lifted her head and caught her reflection in the mirror. She ran her hand across the glass, over every feature on her face in the reflection. She traced the shape of her lips in the mirror. Pulling away from the mirror slowly, she touched her fingertips to her chapped, light pink lips.
My beautiful Esme.
She looked back down at the blade in her hands and held her breath, hesitating.
Do it.
She lifted it and touched it to her arm.
Her eyes filled with tears again and she fell into a hysterical cry.
She had made contact with flesh. She could see her veins pulsing. Blood ran down her arm, dripping onto the light beige carpeted floor, creating stain after stain.
She dropped down to her knees, putting her head to the floor. Her sobs grew louder, along with screaming out “NO” over and over again.
She threw her greasy hair back as she sat up, looking in the mirror once again.
Although, she continued to bawl, that same smile appeared on her face again.
My Esme.
She threw the blade into the mirror with every bit strength she had, trying to overpower the demon that had taken over her body.
The mirror shattered into what seemed to be a million pieces.

My Esme.”

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Women's March on LA Jan 21st, 2017
History was made today.
I wish I could've been a part of this. To all the women & men out there, my brothers and sisters, taking a stand & letting their voice be heard, I've the utmost respect for you. It is sad that we still must protest against issues that we feel we have surpassed. But with movements like this, we will continue to move forward. We have run into an obstacle, a barrier, a "wall" if you will, but it will not hold us back. Fighting for women. For men. For gays. For trans. For Muslims. For Jews. For Christians. For black. For white. For every single person that is a part of the human race. We will raise our children to be understanding & kind. We will not teach them that "boys will be boys," "Muslims are terrorists," "women put themselves in that situation," "black people are bad." No. This stops here. This stops now. Here's to our generation, generations before us that have been ahead of their time, & generations to follow. Let's keep pushing for the change.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017


Being a full time college student, working a tedious job, balancing family life, friends, staying healthy, and other adult responsibilities, I find myself constantly looking for an adventure in my spare time. It is so simple to get caught up in our daily lives and believe that there truly is not enough time in a day to have fun. After a long day, many of us come home, exhausted, eat something simple, and knock out on the couch because we have run out of every bit of energy left to even walk ourselves to our bedroom. It is important to remind ourselves of our needs, of our "cravings" if you will.

Let's say you've been trying to make healthier choices and you've been working hard to keep your weight down with nutritious meals and daily exercise. You have sworn to yourself that you will not give in to anything that will set you back from your goal.
You're visiting Grandma for the weekend and the minute you step foot into the familiar home, you're welcomed by an overwhelming chocolate scent that first fills your nostrils and penetrates into every part of your body, almost resulting in a hypnosis. Your mouth is watering and you tread into Grandma's small vintage style kitchen, only to see a beautifully decorated chocolate cake sitting on the counter. Grandma rushes over to you in her frosting stained apron and smudges of flour on her cheeks. She gives you the warmest hug and practically pushes you down into a seat at the dining table.

"I baked this cake just because I knew you were coming!" she says a little too excitedly as she cuts an extremely generous piece.

"Grandma.. I'm actually trying to watch my weight. I've been on a diet and-"

"Hush hush. Here. Eat."

Grandma sets the huge helping of cake in front of you. It's three layers, with frosting oozing between each layer.


It even has little chocolate spirals on the very top.
You can't help but continue to stare at the plate in front of you.

Hello diabetes, it's nice to meet you.

Tell me. What do you do? Grandma spent hours in the kitchen perfecting your favorite cake specifically because she knew you were coming over. It'd be so disrespectful to not eat the slice she cut you.
You've been going strong on your diet for two and a half weeks now. You're actually starting to see results. You don't want to jeopardize that and give in.


What do you do?

Grandma has been watching you the entire time and takes a deep breath. You look up and she smiles.

"We'll share it."

She brings over two forks.

You shrug and dip your fork into the cake, covering the dainty utensil in every bit of chocolate heaven you possibly can.

You take a bite.

Diabetes never tasted so good.

One Month Later

You've kept going with your diet and exercise. Every time you step on the scale, you see progress(even after the chocolate cake.) You've never felt better.



Maybe it is okay to have your cake...

And eat it too.

It's okay to give in to our cravings once in a while. We all have desire for something, whether that something be a delicious treat or a short adventure with an unknown destination. Give in sometimes. Live your life. It's all in moderation, my friends.


Hello my friends!
Here's to the very beginning of this blog. I am currently enrolled in a Creative Writing class taught by one of my FAVORITE professors(no, I'm not sugar coating it), Wade Bradford.
As one of our assignments, we will store out of class journal entries and any other writing on here. I have actually always wanted to start a blog so i am excited that I have found the perfect opportunity to do so. I will not only store my writing on here, but it will also be a personal blog in which I will share quotes, photos, and anything I come across that I would love to share! I've always had trouble with keeping up with all the ideas running through my head so I'm sure this blog will benefit me in only the best ways. Thank you for joining me on this little journey!
Have a wonderful day.
Peace and love,
Meena Zulmai