You that breaks our clay ***
I come in **** body to gather
The remains, a remains tore
To pieces o Libya

Our laughter shards into cry
Our hustling mocks at us
Our homestead broke in smoke
As we are tools of your slavery

Here
I stand
Here
we stand

At bank shore of African glory
Killed us all enslaved us all
Tied us tie me tie we
o libyan

Push the knife
Pierce it I my bones
**** my blood
it is meant for the ritual

To quench you poverty
to quench you grief
To bring peace and love
Here i am a haunting ghost

Cant
you
see

The shores
The pole
Crying
Human
dying

O libyan
Your days
are numbered
The killing must stop

Written by
Martin Ijir

No one understands you because you imagine you are better
                    Than all the others
                                When your feast is served you share nothing

2. You are hungry yet you have eaten fully
                        You stumble
                                The wine is so heavy in your belly
3. The people walk the empty streets
     Crowded

    Sitting in waiting rooms
     Coughing
    
    Standing in line
(You look into crowds of empty eyes)

4. The cuts on your wrist are silent
                          (Yet you speak incessantly of them
                             As of they are your children)
      The cuts on your legs are silent
                            (Easier to hide these cuts
                                      Not so bright red against the pale backdrop of your arm)

5. Your hair is long
        The day is cold and wind cursed
            You press at the hem of your skirt

6. The place once called home is still there
     Somehow different
        Quieter -
        Everyone is awake
         Gone                               Somewhere they make sound and love to the sky

              unstable

7. You sleep but you find no rest
     You awaken but you still feel like you are sleeping
   The dreams turn to nightmares
Flashbacks/memories of things once loved now hated
Things once pure are now full of lies
         (The radio crackles as you search for the station)

8. You cover yourself in clothes
     You think silly thoughts
"I'm alive! I matter!"

9. You want to believe
     You want to have the faith of a child
              But children don't see the things you've seen
             You feel the barb of pain
                     Throbbing in your ribs

10. Your mind is now your greatest enemy
         It tells you
     Love.     The flamiliar heat of wonder
                    You squeeze your thighs together
Hate.        The lonliness that comes
                   When the heat dies



        You lie on your bed
       Unable to defeat the enemy of self
     You lie awake
      Praying but none listen
You whisper thoughts of longing    your flesh alone against the sheets

I still think about you every Tuesday and Thursday.
I imagine running into you on the cemented walk I trek to class. I imagine looking up and seeing you trying to get away from me. I’ve never once seen you here on Tuesday or Thursday, but I am still thinking of you.

I still think of you in the shower. I can feel your arms holding on to my slippery body. I feel your hands in my hair as the luke-warm water trickles over my scalp. It find comfort in the absence of your touch, but it is brief, and it is never enough.

I still think of you when I am at the beach. I swim and I swim until maybe I absorb enough salt to forget the night you wished for me on that star. I see your face under the sea and I can feel your warmth laying next to me.

I think of all of the mistakes I’ve made. I think about what lead me here. I think maybe you ruined me before we kissed. I was looking for you in all of the lips I met. Now here I am still searching and yearning. I thought If I felt something, anything it would be enough to put out the fire. Maybe I will drink myself to death, but I know that when I see the man standing in front of me it’ll be your angry voice that pulls me back.

I am wondering how many images of myself there are. Thanks to you, and myself, I am certain there are plenty. They will pick which one they are most interested in, and that is the one they will run with. Have I played the victim poorly? Maybe I should have stayed home. I know that these things subside, but I have been digging for so long, I have dug so deep.

I am trying to think but the pain in my skull radiates into my teeth. Breathe in, breathe out- pain. Maybe it will stay, maybe I will never sleep. I see the eyes in my restless dreams. They haunt me through the scenes. I never know when the light will return to me. Maybe it is a game that they wanted to play on me. Let’s get her to move 10 hours away. Let’s ruin her. Maybe she isn’t ruined yet.

I wonder what would they think if I went home. Maybe I’ll drop, maybe I’ll lose my phone. Would they feel guilty for hurting the girl who only wanted to find a new home? I cannot leave, but I want to. I wish I did not have to face them again. Tomorrow it will come, and I will have to feel the anger under their skin. I will see the disappointment in their faces. I will try and try and it will never be enough.


In a series of events, I found myself sober, on the beach. The sky was high and the stars bright. We kissed and kissed and I laughed all night. He told me stories of his past lovers, and I knew they did not compare. I knew I was the one. I ran from him, laughing, and he ran after me, like a good boy. I felt his arms around my waist and I smiled. I made a wish on every star that twinkled in the sky. We searched for the dippers. I was sober and I was happy.

Again, I found myself on the beach, more drunk than I had ever been. I went out and I was bad. I kissed all of his friends. I made a mess of myself and I made a mess of my head. My heart is gone and I have been looking for it since then. I have traveled around the beds of others, looking for something like my long lost lover. His eyes were inviting, now I fear them. His voice loving, abrasive at the ends. I lost my lover, and I’m not quite sure how. I am looking for my heart but it is nowhere to be found. I will go to the sound and look again. I’m high as a kite and I can’t remember how this began.

The sun rises and sets, and I am trying my best. Passive aggressive is all I get. If I had the medication, I could be as cruel as him. Yet he is winning and I am lying on my back. I look to the sky without a cloud in sight and I hope to God that this feeling will subside. I’ve never been one to linger so long, but it feels like eternity since I’ve laid in between your sheets. I should have kissed you again before I left, maybe I could have changed your mind.

How does one become more interesting? I’ve spent my entire life being interesting and it wasn’t enough for a boy like you. An angry man who doesn’t know anything but mad. I was wondering if you would like to try something else. I think you did and it must have tasted bad because you ran at the next opportunity. Now I am mocked in the back seat of a broken car. I am laughed at because I am the stupid one. How silly it was for me to think that  a boy who looked like you could feel for a girl that was me.

Maybe one day you will remember to look for me on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s and maybe I’ll stay the night in someone else’s bed.

i have studied how men
have ensnared women
and called it love

to those who cannot fathom
a woman beyond womanhood
or a woman  beyond man

she was never yours to understand
she belongs to the deity of her own creation
she belongs to the eve who bit the apple and never apologized