haq, jalal, mustafa,
alif, laam, meem,
ameera, abdullah, ahmed,
aftab, akhtar,
ali ali ali,
I am daughter of sons and poets,
christened in zam zam water,
with the eyes of angels,
I am both the epitomy of faith and hell,
they call me shaytaan,
but do not look twice at their own tongues,
at their own wicked bodies,
eyes that whisper curses,
with hands envoloped over qurans,
I feel extinguished,
my body limp from fighting,
torn nails, bruised neck, eyes that are creating bags,
Am I becoming a bag lady?
Sleep, an oasis of time,
I told my heart to go to sleep,
Told her to hold it together,
Fed her dates and reminded her of her Ama,
I slept for recovery, for my tears, to regain what I had lost,
for grief, for lost children,
I slept,
and woke up in a nightmare,