Thursday 14 June 2018

Ode to Yesterday

Fifteen blooming lilac heads
On an orchid stem
Behead one
The others wither

The smell of summer
Took us on a journey
Beginnings are colored in pastel
And middles are always molded in clay

Under a Southern sun
With Cacti, thirst and sunburns
That make you hold hands even tighter
And share the last 50 ml of water
Dangling in a heated bottle from your tired waist
We weathered the sandstorms.

I didn't need shelter as long as you called me home.

A Fata Morgana appeared
And a haze clouds my vision
Am I still taking steps forward?
Is that still your hand in mine?
A salty drop escapes
Is this the storm
Or you?

Fire in me, around me, above me
I yearn to go back to the pastel colors
And the slightly scented air
To the song you wrote me
And the stolen kisses
To the poems you wrote on my skin
And the merry thoughtlessness
To your hands around my waist
And the Jasmine in your eyes

Monday 28 May 2018

Cracks?

Look at the sun, you told me
But night fell and I wanted to bathe in the river
Drown myself and feel alive
You were always warm
I look into what blinds the dam in me
It will hold up,
For now.

Cracks?

The waves have tried to take me
I resist the thrusts
Grabbing your warm hands,
Help?
I feel naufragé.
In a naked slumber,
I think of release.

Damaged cement?

In a gaping abyss I hide 
Knee-hugging and slightly shaking
Off lightheartedness.

Holding my breath
Your fingers are lost in space
I chase them
But I claw at a wall of graffiti.

I sleep with two eyes open
And your scent has left my pillow
But your smile is as radiant as always
It tears me apart.

There's a crack.
Cracks?
Or none?
Will it hold up
For now?


Saturday 6 January 2018

To Chaima, My Dear Student Who Left Us To Soon

Child,
how is this new place to you?
Have you found
the rainbow behind the everblack clouds
that blocked you from the future awaiting you,
oh rising star ?

Did you fall so hard
just to rise up
into the great nothingness?

How could I've been be so blind
Oh child,
will you forgive me?

You only smiled and laughed
Your English essays warmed my heart
I told all my friends what a bright future awaited you
I thought your silence was part of your quietness
Wrong ?

On the inside, I laughed every time the boy you liked
asked me if he could attend my class
just to sit beside you
Of course I said yes
and you spent the hour shining as bright as ever
You sang along to Coldplay
You would always sit in the first row and smile at me
You probably didn't know but
It meant so much.
It meant so fucking much.

I can only imagine
How your empty seat haunts the school
Although I left teaching, I still thought to myself
One day I will meet you again and you would be a smart independent and beautiful woman
But there wasn't even a goodbye
One day I just received a call

You jumped from the network tower.
Waves of shock
Wild stories
Grief
Facebook posts
Were they too late
now that you cracked your bones to death,
my dear child?

"Some cared, but not enough."

Jumping made sense to you
It fit into the suffering you felt
that no one knew about or chose to not know about
Was there no sign predicting this,
Was there no familiar face, Chaima?
Or did they turn away?
Did they not hear your screams?
Or did your broken spirit sink further inwards
melting into your quietness?

15 and dead.
I still can't believe I won't ever see you again
that this is a final and inevitable truth we all must helplessly gaze into
that I will not hear of your success
and that I won't see you on your classmate's selfies again,
that you'll never sing to Coldplay again
that no other teacher will have you as their student again and feel incredibly lucky
having you smile at them in the morning.

---
Dear readers,
please don't ever ignore the slightest signs of suffering.
Be kind to each other. You never know what the other person went through. Try to talk things through.
Don't call people who killed themselves "weak". You are only contributing to a toxic narrative. Your feeling all high-and-mighty-strong is not going to cause others to be strong. Their pain is not about you. It is not about how strong you are. It is about them and their problems. it is about their pace, their life, their perseverance. Use your strength to help them up, not to make them feel worse.