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



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


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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