it whistle. you get up and leave. I fold up every memory we created add it to one cup that is sitting alone but not lonely. I pour every drop of sweat into my cup. it runs over. my black hand does not feel. the memories flood the empty house. the cup shatters in between the weak pillars. my cheekbones. the only bones that know heaven are covered in salt. not with the imprint of-. I drink too much now my womb is ugly. maybe if I stop drinking my body will be able to hold love.
Let your voice enter this world;
as a protest, a war, a declaration against him that keeps telling you to close your Mother’s lips. Do not burn yourself at night and scream your truth into rooms that have no windows. Do not go on your knees and let the humans become your judge and jury. Your knees should only bend for God. Let your Mother’s voice give life to you even when it leaves them into chaos. Take your place into this world and decorate your space with whatever you please. Whatever, you, you, you please. It is a privilege to be you. It is a privilege to be alive. Now go and live. LIVE.
when the sirens come
know that I am holding in my breath
because when the sirens come
and I exhale
I have to face change
change I didn’t ask for
change I never prayed for
but change I need to give that nod to
Apparently closure means complete acceptance
accepting of what has been lost and what it is left in your present
So do we ever find closure in grief… do we ever stop grieving?
closure is complete acceptance
to accept I may need to unclench my fists and let go of my old breath
may you find a way to release the heaviness
to let go of the feelings that make breathing harder
without giving up your soul
Seven years ago as I was making my way to the station I saw this elderly man in a wheelchair and a Muslim woman (she wore the hijab) sitting outside having a laugh. This image of them sitting together and having a conversation despite how different they look warmed my heart. Deep down I wanted to take a photograph and capture the moment but instead I just smiled at them and left them in peace. That image is still ingrained in my brain.
Last year as I was driving to Hargeisa (Somali Land), a girl with the most beautiful maroon head scarf and three goats were crossing the road in front of me. Deep down I wanted to yell at the driver and make him stop the car so I could take a shot but instead I was mesmerised by what I was seeing. Even when we passed the girl and her goats I kept looking back to catch one last glimpse of that moment. Something about that image, moment felt like pure serenity.
What I am trying to say is that we all have images that we cannot seem to forget. In some ways they leave an imprint on us, make us believe that the world isn’t as tainted as we thought it was. They are all reminders that we should look around more and be grateful that we can experience these moments. Especially as an outsider. Basically I people watch. Try it… just don’t stare too hard.
When it comes to life whatever the situation we are dealing with in our heads or out there in the world, at the end of a long day I want to breathe a little easier. For me to be able to breathe and actually feel my entire body means I am aware and I am accepting myself. Call it reflection, meditation, prayer I want to be able to breathe always a little bit easier. When stress comes back for a commitment and takes away my ability to breathe it changes everything. It’s not even about that I want to be free of anything that gives me stress because to be free of that means I want to be free of my life and my life is blessed. It’s about learning to commit to myself before believing whatever outside is telling me to believe about myself. Call it happiness. Call It peace. But if I can breathe easier no matter what the day has brought me, I am living. So I hope you are breathing a little easier as well.
Silence and a sad smile – It’s not just me