The needle

Pulls thread

Through my head


Into the past

Stitching pain into me


Into the future

Creating tapestries of




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 like I have


Waiting like I’m told

To continue to


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



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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