I interact with them,
from a distance,
It is like a disease we will never be rid of,
They, stuck in their stories,
A lifetime of the same nightmare,
Over and over,
I struggle to relate,
I don’t wish to contribute to the same suffering,
Countries apart,
I look at pictures,
to attempt to ease the confusion,
To understand where it went all wrong,
Bound by blood,
in Memory that lives a million lifetimes,
But this version has come to an end,
They live in the old,
I don’t live anywhere anymore,
The pictures show beauty,
I remember the tornado that scorched my heart,
Though having built myself back together,
Bone per bone, rewiring each neural pathway,
Here I am,
Half choked from the truths I wish to spill,
My truth was taken from me,
Even now,
I hide behind curtains and veils,
for my happiness seems to be a burden,
I pray at every given moment,
We don’t know each other anymore.
Strangers,
We like to pretend a lot,
I play along,
This game,
I don’t thrive off,
I miss Ama.