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Sep 2010
I lost the top of my head in an upward motion
Against the wind
And against the wills of everyone who wanted to explain to me
Just how I felt about this somewhat gloomy night

I’m not tired and I’m not sick,
Even when I’m hung downwards like pain is seeping through my dirtied eyes
I’m not hanging by a thread
trying hard not to touch the surface of this rough, needy tale

I’m walking barefoot upon open wounds and ice cold shriveled pieces
of every thought I had about driving this dowdy truck
Across the Country

I must be floating when I look down to whiff the smoke
Coming out of your tediously minuscule home

I think the light inside my throat is flickering - tickling
Making it quite silly to speak
So I think; why does my spleen taste so sweet?

I was writhing upon fading nails – patiently waiting for the moon
To break in half and for the birds to sway waltzing their way
Out of these exploding stars

I lost the bottom of my heart trying on this grim notion
But I can’t apologize
Written by
Rasha Omer
539
 
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