February 11, 2019

 

One Refugee & a Blonde

 
 
 

One Refugee & A Blonde

I am not ashamed
to be known as a
refugee, from a
country that is
fully damaged
Being awake
all the nights
it's the reason
why do I feel
always homesick
Stranger next
to me, in front
of me, behind
the wall of my
lonesome room
I learnt how
to speak, read,
and write to
write about
my falling tears
My old friends
died and I can
still their voices
from the thirst
of my wounds
I played with fire
to die to ashes
sadly, my blood
turns the flames
into a drinkable poison
A blonde saw me
she taught me
how to love
how to drink
how to smoke
I laugh with her
liquors and she
cries with my bread
she laughs with
tears of her own too
below the rain
she kissed the
sunshine behind
my back and
I kiss the moon on her neck
Night and day
I gave her wings
& she gave me
the blue skies
to die with no fears
Last words
from the heart
are no longer
grieves, they are
a sharp suicidal song






Article © Ahmad Al-khatat. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-02-11
Image(s) are public domain.


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In the same series:

One Refugee & a Blonde

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I Close My Eyes
Until When
Wish You Were Here
What Hurts Me the Most
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