Mother, There are days when I breathe in All the stars of the night, Only to find my skin is still not alight   Mother, There are days when Words seem to fall Just short of my heart And foreign skin turns to scales at first touch   Mother, There are days when Close is … More Mother

I Am Human

And as I sat there Two fingers cocked Like a gun At the back of my throat   Gagging and heaving up Nothing but air   Pulling and tugging at My skin Trying to mold myself   (if only I were made of clay)   I realized I am a pattern That I have come … More I Am Human

The Burning Sun

You said you didn’t know me   And at first your words fell short of my heart   But you were right   You don’t know me   You don’t know me— —or the way water dances beneath my skin— the way air moves and bends so that it may touch me   You don’t … More The Burning Sun

And so we unlearned  how to walk on two feet redefined movement as we left the orderly behind and entered a land where trees are not taught to stand in line Copyright notice: © Zeinab Hassan Fawaz and Broken Dolls, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or … More

Wasted Words

I could tell you Of the sun   Of how to speak To walls And make wet autumn leaves Crunch   I could tell you Of a girl Whose voice carried her Across the Atlantic   And I could tell you Of the dangers That lie in her self-made sea   I learned Long ago … More Wasted Words