My Name is Sad AF

Sadaf.

My name is Sadaf.

My name is seashell.

My name is on a beach.

My name is lying buried in the sand.

My name is hiding in the Earth waiting for discovery.

My name is Sadaf.

My name is Sad AF.

My name lies in bed with her tears.

My name feels the weight of a thousand dumbbells pressing on her chest.

My name cries so much until there’s nothing left to release.

My name spends some days unproductive because her brain doesn’t see the point.

My name feels pain. It is pain. 

My name is Sadaf. 

My name is Mad AF. 

My name feels the insensitive efforts to make her feel less than.

My name wishes she could be more like them. 

It wishes it was something else. 

It aspires to be seen as a person. 

It feels angry. It is angry. 

My name is Sadaf. 

My name is Bad AF. 

My name keeps her head up despite the pain and sadness. 

My name wears her fancy dress and heels. 

She smiles through her misery. 

She does not need anyone but Sadaf. 

She feels assertive. It is assertive. 

So sure. 

I am Sadaf. 

I am Sad AF.

I am Mad AF

But I am also Bad AF. 

I am the seashell that pokes your foot the hardest out of the others. 

I am the exquisite treasure that you can’t help but notice. 

I am the “exotic” one that attracts the plain onlookers. 

I am the most intricate pattern.

I am the Sadaf. 

Editors: Emily X., Joyce S., Nadine R., Anoushka K.

Cover Photo Source: Fine Art America