Pick me up,
And open my cover,
But be careful,
Cause I might crumble,
Read my fine print,
Just don’t mock the way I am,
I’ve been through alot since then,
Drugs,
Fights,
Heart breaks,
And more,
Are all the things you’ll find,
In my novel.

For the longest time it's felt like I'm drowning.
I've kept swimming.

This isn't where I'd like to take my last breath.

It angers me that I struggle to fight the waves.
And sometimes, all feels lost.
Yet...
Whether through ego, anger, denial, or the instinct to survive,
I cannot accept an end like this.
My lungs are not yet out of breath.

left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"

to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"

and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
nor
his amazement,
to disguise!

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher