Orphan

I am Fatherless and Motherless ,
That was I,
A Child,
Who bore witness to the Sky for help,
With palms spread into the ground,
Bent in sujood *
Wondering when my prayers were to be answered,

On days of Light ,
I would watch how clouds would caress one another,
How milkshakes would be formed by the pink and dreams that would reside above,
How honey would melt into the white,
I would name them ‘heavenly skies’ ,
A miniscule glimpse of the Other side,
As young as the age of four I knew that my home belonged in the nest of clouds above, amongst the doves that would flock,
The white feathers saving me,
A place where my loved ones slept , whilst I was stuck in this paradigm,

On Nights
I would stretch my neck, branch it so far as if I were a giraffe, gaping in awe,
Found myself calling this place home,
The bounty and depth that the darkness held in the reflection of my eyes,
Reminded me of what maybe my insides looked like,
The litter of stars, all named, aligned,
A milkyway submerged between me and they,

I would find myself singing to her,
The Darkness,
An-Nas* would be read over and over,
To remove the evil that had been cast
A prayer that would coat the beehives in the sky,
Their geometry like the beauty of the ayahs in the Qur’an *
A maze for the non believers and believers,

I was told my Daddy would be the brightest star in the sky,
I wonder if that lie that was told to me to stub the hurt,
I wonder if he was the Moon I longed to night after night,
My father, my only freedom, stolen before I could scream,
I would write letters and leave them at gravesite,
Hoping he would hear the mourning in words,
A young girl awaiting him in dreams,
The visits were less than often,
He would arrive when I needed him the most,
Other times he left me ,
Left me
into the arms of the trees
Their branches and roots always held space for me,
I could relate to the branches which grew to the tops of trees ,
Or flowers growing from rocks,
Even in adversity there was always one leaf,
Further than any of the rest,
I looked up,
in Hope my Spirit could survive in the Black.

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Decapitation

DECAPITATION love has decapitated me over and overand rebuilt me,to be the Sun that glows,more brightly than any other Star,

Mad Woman

and god knows how the pink parts of me, the parts that make up my skin. The epithelial layer of

the Whales came.

In everytime Lifetime,you will Find meyou said to me, the last time, so I will wait,whilst I turn myself into