Halflings

The needle

Pulls thread

Through my head

 

Into the past

Stitching pain into me

 

Into the future

Creating tapestries of

Responsibility

Age

 

My fingernails pick at it

 

They’re surprised I bleed

 

“I’m not made of steel, y’know!”

 

They’re surprised I speak

 

My dad rests in the corner

With his half-child

Cooing commands at her

Holding the promise of deliverance

 

She doesn’t deliver

 

Dozens still stand by

Waiting

 

Waiting like I have

Waited

Waiting like I’m told

To continue to

Wait

In excited anticipation

Of something that never comes

 

I’m told I look like the Halfling

And now I feel like her

Unable to understand why

Unable to understand how

She was turned into the

Star act

In this show

 

We never do what we’re supposed to

 

But

She smiles

All is forgiven

 

The needle

Moves through the air

And through my skin

Like a painful art

 

Now, I’m smiling too

None is forgiven

 

Copyright notice:

© Zeinab Hassan Fawaz and Broken Dolls, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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