Thursday, April 18, 2013

Day 5: My Naigbour by Hana Aw-Dahir


She cups it in the palm of her hands
Doesn’t understand, the pain, the turmoil
Saturated it bleeds in distain, her loving remains
A mother in title but an addict in silence
For goes any loving because it’s a false exchange
It rains, she doesn’t remember
She shacking, she’s craving, she needing
But hopeless to her children
The purity of her has diminished
Negative thoughts all consuming, she believes them
Paranoia hits her, she hits smack harder
Demented, she forgets them, leaving the world burning while in state of oblivion
Mama you there?
Faint whispers to the air
She doesn’t care; her heart sprouts coal from smoking
Everything is closing in yet her tale was endearing
Angelica was her name, her fate wasn’t hers to attain
She accepted it but her father was to blame
Touched her in areas that use to remain sacred
Still a fighter, she got out of her situation and tried to made it
Just to repeat a cycle of abuse with another who bears his own legacy
She found comfort in powder, became grey and cold like the material she absorbed
God only knows if her soul was salvageable
Because in this world, what was left was nothing more
Damaged and battered, an empty shell of a woman
She lived across the street but today was the day, I truly knew her

Hana Aw-Dahir
Copyright © 2013 

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