Christmasless

Dear MOM,

If ink was the blood you needed to live, i would have written the poem of infinity. If thoughts would bring back the smell f your cheeks, i would have rethought this entire existence a million times over. If prayers would bring back a sight of your glossy smooth skin, i would have prayed for each God ever written. If feeling you beside me is a simple crossover to another stage of being, i would have been there already. If keeping you in the living is freezing time as i freeze in my hardest forms, i would reinvent physics and science.

You were robbed from your being and i was robbed of meanings, as if you’ve invented them, as if you’ve ignited my life with ongoing heartbeat, as if you were my eternal language.

I can hear you in every music i play, i can see you in every place i reach, i can feel you with every sense i perceive, i loose you in every reason i try to make.

I recap my entire life over and over, each passing hour, as if this is turning into an ever looping time machine. As if my present is trying to talk to my past. As if the continuum of being has been shattered the moment i saw you laying on white sheets, stained from your loosing battle with life.

I try to wash you off with tears, but that is as if dark clouds tried washing earth’s mountains and seas.

How may i bring you back other then in my dreams? which alchemy, or sorcery, or perception of living can i invent? How can you be so present, yet non-existent, so alive, but yet not living, so loving yet with no senses to give.

I want to think that a piece of me was broken, but rather, i find myself struggling with the concept of me, without you.

Merry Christmas mom!

12-24-17- 10:21pm – 11:16pm

Anatomy of Death

Sunday – may – 21 – 11:39am

Where does one’s spirit go?

There you are, the person I love the most, I’ve idealized the most, I’ve crystallized into a goddess, I’ve engraved in my heart, soul, thoughts, deeds and every waking moment of my life. Lying there, breathless, soulless, smiling, sad, as if you’ve mourned your own departure of this world.

There you are but you aren’t. There you cross your arms as if you were sleeping peacefully, at last. There you are with the nurses handling your body as if there was no common feeling of sadness but rather part of a job description, a task of the day that rushed adrenaline through their veins while it rushed poison of sadness through the blood of your loved ones, my blood. It’s a new kind of sadness, the kind that cripples you for life. The kind that changes your belief, your presence, your future, the course of your life, the kind that changes you.

2:13 am, flying across the skies, pushing the plane with my fear of the devastating news. Each second seems like a year. As I attempt to close my eyes and push the envelope of time, here I am, awakened by a hard cringe in between my teeth. My cheeks shivered, ma saliva got heavy, my throat tightened as if something was speaking through me. As if you were trying to reach me and say: “ I’ve waited for you, but I have to go now habibi. Do not worry! I am sorry I couldn’t stay longer around you. I LOVE YOU!”
While I shake from hear and my heart trembles, I deeply hope my senses are mistaken. My mind is too weak and it is sending me the wrong signals just to prepare me from the worse. I wished deeply that this was pure biochemicals transmitting doses of fear causing a momentary brain panic.
I held on to hopes that this love I feel for you, the love we all feel for you, cannot possibly let you go!

The room turned moist from tears. Your body, holding on to warmth as if all the love you’ve given is still there to give. As if you did not want to go without leaving some heat of life around. Like you’ve never wanted me to go to school without lunch.As if you did not want to let me travel without your motherly, godly protection.

I feel your soft skin as if all the chemicals and the medicine they’ve loathly injected, couldn’t change the composition of your skin as if you’ve come back to the old you, the one that was healthy, the one that was radiating passion, happiness, life.
I cry, hoping my tears and my love will turn into a magic potion of life and get you back alive. I hoped magic existed. I wished the resurrection stories were true. I hoped the legend of the bible was real!

Mind is racing at an unprecedented speed, rage trying to squeeze and find room. Regrets starts to re-surface, but sadness is too big to leave room for anything else. Meanings turned into confusion. Fear transformed into uncertainty. Yearn turned intro deformed memories. Love crystallized into a useless god. Your voice turned into a dancing gypsy that swings and sways my nerves all the way from the deepest corners of my soul, down to my gut.

You transformed into ME!
12:20pm