A cruel night that permits me no sleep
The music is indistinct from silence
Soon, the sun will be up.
God, blessed. Me with my atheist prayers
Agnostic, if you will. Thank you.
Al-hamad ul lillahi rabb-ul-Aalameen
I spread the prayer mat
I kneel with my shorts on
With my headphones on
With music, with my unwashed feet
I say nothing. I do not weep.
It is just an old ritual.
My mother's anti-depressant.
She takes those arabic verses
Twice a day, with mildly cool water
Preferably before meals
And after difficult arguments
Me, I
Hah.
I get bored. I turn to boys and paints
To half-assed intellectualism
I dance terribly to myself.
I would drink music if I could.
Cruel daylight tip toes in
I wish I could tell them
How much I can ache. How much.
So much so, however,
I do not skip my lectures.
I do not fail my tests.
Day after day after day
I will zip the crude self open
And fix it, tick by tick
To pull through one more study session
And God - or God-not if you will -
Is just a pseudo-political nuisance now
Grief does not make us more human.