Tan,
Not too big,
Not perfectly slim,
My suitcase has a rainbow- colored ribbon.

My suitcase is pretty,
It's delicate, crafted carefully,
Blemished and recalling antiquity.

My suitcase has faded stickers on it,
Dirt and stains and scars,
My suitcase is clearly well- traveled,
Adding to its charm.
The moment I saw my suitcase
I knew it'd be my friend,
And its handle felt like a mold
Of my small, custom- made hand.

Pain etched on a face
Clear, simple and dark as her days,
A mirror of sunshine
Breaks as a smile,
Breaks like a wave,
Breaks like the hope
That I imagine is her God.

Not the one inflicted on her body,
The one justifying
The bruises on her skin and heart,
The one in whose ghastly name
She conveniently suffers.

He is not the One, love,
Come with us,
We will carry you on our backs,
You will grow wings in time,
Your pain will heal.
Let me show you the One I know above,
I will show you that prayer is not a belt,
I will teach you to sing praises
Instead of agonies,
I will show you faith,
For I was allowed to stray
In order to discover
What is lost upon your captor.

Oh, how I longed to speak out,
To wear my immodest denim pants,
To sing with my seductive female voice,
To hug his little boy,
Oh, how I longed to throw in his face
That curse which he did make
By use of my Lord's name
In frightful vain,
And then I understood that if
I,
A guest, one who could not be beat
Into compliance,
Do not dare to speak,
Then your rescue must be up to me.
For while strong and proud, poor lovely one,
You will not break your chains
And run away.

Back home
I shower
And my eyes
Don't blink as they're lined
Along with my mouth
And usually I don't do that
But some lines on my face need to be redefined
Like the ocean eroded them
Just washed them away
And I'm dressed in blue and green
And in my ears are pearls--
Because I'm not afraid of the sea,
It was my fault it almost killed me
And the person I hold dearest.

I'd never thought in terms of luck
Until what was given to my peer
Was taken hastily from me.
I prayed for its return,
Upon which, once more, I proved unworthy,
For something better did escape me once again.
I freely sin, perhaps I'm shameless;
Alone in my willing, human ways.
I wish for darkness, with which to sweeten
The taste of the bitterness I bleed instead of grace.
Redemption's the word, but it's a roller coaster,
So to echo words of chosen ghosts
When perfection eludes me and I must beg for something more,
With my prayers answered, but my fingertips still beneath the stars--
True, he struck the rock,
And water gushed out,
Streams flowed abundantly,
But can he also give us bread?

This soul you gave
Has lost its way.
It doesn't know who made
It anymore.

Hashem, this soul
Instead of purified
Is petrified,
And heavy and full.

This soul in me's got
A little identity crisis,
With matter and anger tugging war
With rightness.

Perhaps this soul
Is mean, unfaithful.
Created divine, it still can't find
The innocence to make it grateful.

This soul needs help to find it's way,
Restorer of essence to body from sleep,
Return essence to that godly piece,
Allow your presence within me to keep.

Don't let me scare you.
I'm an ant beside a tree,
And if you don't recognize
The look in my eyes,
It's because you're used
To seeing me happy.
All the words engraved
In pencil on my bedroom wall,
Glittering silver
In every corner of my room,
My mind's forgotten how to read,
How to understand the things
Known previously, effortlessly.
I've become the paint,
Flaking off the wall;
The paper plane
That didn't quite take off;
The dog chasing its own tail,
Too innocent to ever give it up.
I've become the initials in your locker,
Alien, but familiar with age;
The poem on the internet,
The rebel stupid sage.
But I'm also all the things that never change,
You know my face, my handwriting, my name,
And you know my lifeline
Better than yourself--
So don't let me scare you.