A broken mother loves from a distance
She keeps you at arm's length to prevent her from suffocating you
She can't stand your sadness but will do nothing to restore your happiness
She stays up all night wondering
If you inherited her illness
If by chance you were destined to walk through the same path
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Loss is the only language she understands

A broken mother will never hide her feelings from you
She will serve you a plate of her deepest scars on her anniversaries
Just like the generous cook she is
She will tell you stories behind the recipe over dessert
She can't stand to see your heart broken
But she will do nothing to make you feel better
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Heartbreak is the only language she understands

A broken mother will never believe in your dreams
She will make it her duty to remind you of your past failures
Hell will break loose if you ever talk about your nightmares
She can't stand your wounds
But she will do nothing to make them heal
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Abuse is the only language she understands

i've walked around
with an open wound in my chest
for years.

i've been ever so careful
to wipe up the puddles
of blood i
leave in my wake.
i have to.

this wound,
this open wound,
has been festering
for years.

it was wrought first
by a wooden stake,
dripping with grass-green poison,
when i was still too young
to know that
this open wound
shouldn't have been there
at all.
i don't quite remember
the first time i looked
down at my own chest
and saw my own heart,
beating and dripping blood
peeking through an open wound.

it hurt.
it hurt IT HURT it hurt.
it hurt so, so badly.

as the years passed,
and this wound
was inflicted
again and
again and
again and
again and
again and
again and
again and
again and
again and
again.
it was torn open day after day
rotted and infected
it exposed my ribs
it exposed my lungs
it exposed my heart
it exposed my soul.

but. now.
today's the first day
that instead of letting it be torn deeper
i put on a band-aid.

this open wound,
i've never felt it heal.
and now that i am starting to,
it seems more painful
and sore
than ever.

It does not matter.
If you inflict a wound in my heart, I will make my wound blossom with a Thousand songs of love, and a garden of tulip flowers!

It does not matter.
If you crucify me on the cross of origin or religion,
I will turn my cross to become a shrine for freedom lovers!

It does not matter.
If you declare 'Punish Hussein Day', I will replace your day
Of punishment with feast, festivity, and celebration of life!

It does not matter,
If you insult me or call me every name in the book,
I will transform your harm to a prayer and regard
You as my equal in humanity!


Hussein Dekmak

Why do I have day dreams of blood running from the place in my chest where my bandaged heart remains?

The wounds are scars that no longer bleed so why

(WHY)

Am I still waiting for it to heal?

behold
mine guilt be carved
'pon this furrowed brow
plainly writ
for all to see

i pray thee now
speak softly
fair an' sweet
an' brook no lie
to pass thine ruby lips
those serpent fangs
venom filled
'twould pierce an'
wi' their poison still
this wounded heart
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
far beneath...

where mid-night forest
darkly flows
this raging torrent
swiftly feeds
black rivers
writhing coldly
thru my soul

as faceless voices
darkly speak
urging chaos
mindless screams
nightshades tearing
rending eat
the broken pieces
of this wounded heart
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
far beneath...

where the sun
is but a myth
deep within this
dark abyss
an' the moon
faithless
fades
from memory

alas
speak softly
fair an' sweet
release me from
this dark abyss
that lay bleeding
lost an' dreaming
at thy feet
.
.
Pic Poem
http://oi60.tinypic.com/29kvqs8.jpg
.
.

A plastered note covers my eyes,
a girl is there with a gentle smile.

Today my wounds were on display,
everyone saw my wounded face.

But I felt a pat instead of a hit,
my heart is filled with sprinkles of gleam.

For now I'm a face, a heart to love.

I'm not a number anymore.