fajr [daybreak]
My ribcage was ŚŤŔĂĨŃĔĎ
when I woke up.
Every ｂｒｅａｔｈ felt like
a мσυяиιиg whisper;
air disappearing down
the ώɾøṉģ throat.
I couldn't tell
in the arid light
if the cold
morning hεlḋ
me fiercer than usual.
Or maybe my body
had given up, because
the sad recollections
that ｐｌａｙｅｄ in my mind
left too many unnoticed
scars.
But my mind was left
with an aching paranoia
of days lost,
and уєαяиє∂ victories.
It was easy to
give in, to diṡṃαṉτlε
the dots ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｅｄ.
However,
it was even harder
to cσnstruct my ｏｕｔ－ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ
hand to αссερτ comfort from
other beings.
Because
God was there,
while you weren't.
YOU ARE READING
faded blue
Poetryin which a girl writes down her thoughts on tattered blue pages, with only a worn-out copy of the Quran, a long dress, two granola bars, three dollars and her Lord to guide her while surviving on the streets of New York City. ~ They say that somewhe...
