Nadoush,
In every name I ever whispered to God,
your face was there.
I gave you my youth,
my laughter,
the strength in my hands.
Now I have nothing left to offer
but the wreckage.
The rot that hums quietly inside me.
The kind of silence that aches.
I am what is left after the storm
a wound that learned how to walk,
a prayer that forgot its words,
an anchor afraid of water.
My faith is a habit now,
a muscle that twitches out of memory.
My prayers
they turn to smoke before they reach the sky.
What could these hands hold for you anymore?
Only sleeplessness,
and a disbelief that tastes like rust.
Every morning, nausea comes to greet me
like a disciple who never lost faith.
All I own is a fate
spinning like a coin in the devil’s palm.
I have loved you
a thousand and one times,
each time believing it would be the last.
And because of that
please
stay away from me.
Stay away from the fire
I built to keep from freezing,
from the smoke that calls your name
long after midnight.
In this world, I possess nothing.
Nothing but your eyes,
your scent in my memory,
and the sorrow that keeps me breathing.
They are my relics.
My small, ruined kingdom.
My undoing.
I kiss them both every night
the sorrow,
and the memory of you
and I call that prayer.
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 8:07 PM UTC
Nadoush,
In every name I ever whispered to God,
your face was there.
I gave you my youth,
my laughter,
the strength in my hands.
Now I have nothing left to offer
but the wreckage.
The rot that hums quietly inside me.
The kind of silence that aches.
I am what is left after the storm
a wound that learned how to walk,
a prayer that forgot its words,
an anchor afraid of water.
My faith is a habit now,
a muscle that twitches out of memory.
My prayers
they turn to smoke before they reach the sky.
What could these hands hold for you anymore?
Only sleeplessness,
and a disbelief that tastes like rust.
Every morning, nausea comes to greet me
like a disciple who never lost faith.
All I own is a fate
spinning like a coin in the devil’s palm.
I have loved you
a thousand and one times,
each time believing it would be the last.
And because of that
please
stay away from me.
Stay away from the fire
I built to keep from freezing,
from the smoke that calls your name
long after midnight.
In this world, I possess nothing.
Nothing but your eyes,
your scent in my memory,
and the sorrow that keeps me breathing.
They are my relics.
My small, ruined kingdom.
My undoing.
I kiss them both every night
the sorrow,
and the memory of you
and I call that prayer.
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