Best 9 quotes of Nesrine Benahmed on MyQuotes

Anger is repressed sadness. It’s the fear of being hurt again. It’s the “sorry-s” you’ve never got. It’s the pain you’ve never dealt with.

I am but a frangible Mud brick ordered To build a home in the Big city of humanity; Yet break when Forced to fit.

It is funny how the person who’s been abusing you all of your life starts to complain of the self- destructive behaviors your brain has learnt to cope with when all they did was destroying you.

Sometimes, you are moved by everything that happens around you. A song moves you so much. Its lyrics make you tear, its melodies take you to another world. You read a poem and you wish you were the one who wrote it. They say you spend your whole life rewriting the poem you loved once. You know that’s true. Because you know how poets feel. You know how they think. You know who they are.

They say I’m a poet I say I just put words Into feelings To justify My inadequacy

We all hear this whispering truth in the breeze, but when we don't, it always comes screaming with the wind. And I know it's hard to reach for yourself. And I know you think you're ruined beyond retrieve. But you will rejuvenate. You will retune your rhythm again. And I know it would feel like searching for the voice in the radio. And I know some days will be searing and bitter and dry. But I know it is worth it. You are worth it.

We promise it's all going to be okay There is one way to make it And if necessary you will fake it You see, it's not a spiral pattern Of tears and trial and your denial Love, we won’t let you crawl And sprawl and get lost in despair We will hold you tight, you'd feel your Ribcage filled with intense heat of Our love for you

When you yell at me I close my eyes and shut my ears To never hear a word you say I never want you to see my tears I know you need to shout aloud For you to hear your voice sears For you to know it doesn't hurt For you to know that it's still here That you no longer hear them scream I see your eyes are turning red I know your voice has bled as it turns my name to shreds I know you need to let it out I know you feel the walloping hell When all your inside is burning embers I know you need to shout aloud For you to know that you're still here For you to cover all your seams For you to take a heaving breath And finally clamor a silent dread -because anger is a mourning of a different kind

You know, having a panic attack feels like you're collapsing, like your organs are rebelling against you, and that you'd throw them up. It's like you're on a swing ride in an amusement park. At first, you're there waiting for things to happen, and for gravity to mess up with you. After a while of waiting, it starts working, and slowly you're reaching a frightening height. And it's not like you have phobia, but you certainly feel things as your chest starts tightening, you think it’d explode. Then, it's swinging and you just want to scream or jump or whatever, but you can't do that. You're tied and scared and there is no way you'd reach a solid ground.