Stretching out her hand
she smoothed the tiredness and fatigue
comforted me when I was down, flicked away the frown
A hand that reached into my heart,
reassured me we would never be apart
and I was free, to be just me
A hand that held me as I wept
Hidden beneath the cotton pale blue folds of her burqa, Aisha’s head rests in her hands.
Eyes closed, crawling into herself, hoping that once opened her world would look different.
To be Ok as she is, how she wishes to dress, to become who she wants to become.
It’s not me I can guarantee
A sigh of relief exhaled through her lips
Hands on her voluptuous hips
Head bobbing from side to side, eyes turning away
At least she’s okay
Looking on with a vacant stare, without a care
A homeless man holds out his hand, “can you…
The enemies I’m speaking about hide discreetly within vulnerable emotions.
Hanging off the sides of hearts jeering at the softer, quieter emotions below.
Yellow protruding fangs, cat calling whipping up a frenzy below.
Blowing putrid smelling breath, fanning the flames, igniting Anger’s wrath.
Fear taunts innocent bystanders with its evil…
Excited with the prospect of change, Philomena for the first time in ages felt alive again.
Flirting with the prospect of a new life, a chance of happiness; her heart fluttered inside her chest, a smile spontaneously spread across her face.
She could see everything so clearly the blur of…
Glistening with sweat the players see victory in their line of sight, the roar of the crowds spur them on, hopes soar; winning an ever present flag whipping in the wind.
Fatigue saturating the layers of their bodies, steady as the drizzle of the rain, yet not dampening their spirits.
Close my eyes smell the salty sea air, open them, see the crashing, frothy waves in front of me
A child stands before me picking up tiny stones between nimble, equally tiny fingers placing them methodically into a red bucket
Sand castles constructed, teeny hands gingerly patting the…
If time stood still, what will…
What will I see, beyond me
When all I see is me
Inside a spinning head of fabrications and lies
Past the flagrant masks and guise
If time stood still, would I know the truth
But how could I tell between real