at the end of the tunnel my heart trembles,
overwhelmed by waves of telephone rings,
unexecuted promises, ecstasy of a newfound soul
but the threat of a fragile thread, i try to
breathe but the air goes nowhere, and then i
look, mama, the henna on my hand is fading away
i sigh at the inevitability of things, all of this reality
does not feel like reality, we are all in the last stretch
of our escape, i see the light at the end of the dark
ness, but why does it feel like i’m simply standing
still waiting to be kept in another cage. darling,
darling, my henna is wearing thin. i want out,
i want freedom, i want love, i want this anxiety
to fade away like the lovely patterns quickly wearing
thin, thin, thin, to match the colour of my skin.
