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 to know well

 

I walk

Hands on the ground

Feet in the air

Clutching at my beating life

 

Many have asked

To study me

To break open my skull

Hoping to see anything but

A brain that looks

Exactly like theirs

 

But I am human

Before I am sick

I am human

Before I am a woman

I am human

Before I am different

 

I cannot blame you

For judging me

I do it all the time

Never good enough

Never smart enough

Strong enough

Pretty enough

Skinny enough

 

Striving to reach

An unachievable standard

To be that which I am not

 

Waiting for the day

When I will catch

An unsuspecting me in the mirror

And find her

Beautiful

 

I cannot understand

The oxymoronic nature of the human being—

To be guarded

In the search for love

To be fearless

On the course of self-destruction

 

You may find me resilient

Your words may find me fragile

 

And the truth is

I am both

And I am neither

 

Most people don’t have eyes

Strong enough to see

The words etched into my bones

 

Nor do they have ears

Astute enough to hear

My soul read its story

 

But that won’t stop me

 

Next time the wind blows

Listen

To how it moves across my bones

Playing my body like a flute

 

Listen to how it speaks me

In an unfamiliar tongue

 

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 owner is strictly prohibited.

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