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 May 2018 em
mk
i am in a haze today. it is cloudy and beautiful outside. it is also pressing down on my chest and i struggle for air. i wore your shirt to bed last night and it helped steady my oxygen supply. i wish you were here to say my name and speak to me in my native tongue to remind who i am and where i've come from. i'm forgetting everything, slowly. recreating yourself is only good when you haven't done it five thousand times over. i just want to be me now. but how do i become me if there is no you? pick me up from the library and walk me to class. hold my hand and tell me that you will stay with me no matter how grey the sky is or how cold my fingers feel.
 May 2018 em
mel
the way they leave
 May 2018 em
mel
there is something
about the way they leave
with hands still deep in
the heart of me
but what hurts the most
is how easy it seems, like
the effortless act of
wind uprooting seeds
i guess some storms
are born just for shaking
away what’s not deep
but the blames not on me
for seasons change and
soon spring came to
wash the blame
i bloomed
away all
due to
pain
and light
shined too
through parts i knew
you took the moment i met you
and from these holes my branches
grew resilient to the heat of june and
now they reach up to the moon
and harbor light to shine and
swoon the ones who come
to love me new but leave
me wild when they're
through i smile every
time they do as it's
your shadow
dancing
too
 May 2018 em
Riddhima
Semicolons
 May 2018 em
Riddhima
The city of lunatics
Awake
Snatching semicolons
Left on pavements
Of incomplete poems
Over mouths pregnant with scattered letters
Wrapping singed skin
In dots and full stops
With loveless chokes writ on their faces
Lost in bruised
Sleep
 May 2018 em
Lazhar Bouazzi
To the Goddess of morn
who made bread from fire
and taught me how to read
to read the wreaths of coffee
into the songs of dawn.

And to the Mason who
showed me how to hammer,
form out of chaos
and cherish the scent of
the cement on grey-green walls.

© LazharBouazzi

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