Dear Loved Ones

Dear Loved Ones

Day 244 of despising the roof I sleep under,
of feeling like having a bed to sleep on is a betrayal to my people.

They killed another 250 people today.
I saw another mother dead.
I saw her children weep.

They bombed them in a school.
Or maybe it was a hospital.

They killed them because they didn't leave.
Or I think they did.
They left to safety.
Or they thought they did.

They killed them because the borders were closed.
They closed them.

Day 244...

I had an interview today.
I made sure not to look at my phone before the call.
I knew I'd be betraying the unidentified child murdered today if I did.
But I tried to anyways..

I couldn't do it.
I told my interviewer I had a migraine and asked to reschedule.

I didn't tell him that I stayed up sobbing at the thought of prisoners,
many children,
having hot rods inserted into their anuses.

They torture them.
They've always tortured us.

They call us terrorists when we speak,
up, for, or against.
But when they impale,
and kill us and our loved ones,
they call them interrogations.

Day 244...

I heard my roommate singing.
I was in my room crying.
I couldn't tell him to quiet down.
How could I?
In a few hours, the roles will be reversed.

Day 244...

My best friend's dad passed away some time ago.
I haven't called him.
I don't know how.

Day 244...

of messaging friends when I see similar words on their stories.
I tell them to not abandon hope.
I tell them that we are their hope.
That we must fight harder.

I tell them we can change the discourse from here.
That we must tell the beast its victims are .. human

But the beast never cared.
I lie to them.
I must.

Day 244...

A few weeks ago a friend proclaimed that life is only valuable to those who are alive. That a chair couldn't care less about being alive; about being aware.
And that, therefore, to bring children into this world is evil -
Those that do not exist do not care for existing.

I disagreed.
I had to.

Ya Allah how do the Palestinian mothers do it..

A few weeks later we were debating if Palestine would be free in 2 years or 5.
I argued.
I was smiling.

"For once I'm the optimist," he said.
We're both fools.
Or perhaps it's love.

Perhaps love is entertaining thoughts of the future
when we know tomorrow they'll kill more children.

Tomorrow we'll wake up crying.


Day 244...

It seems to me that love, or solidarity, or whatever you want to call it,
is never allowing your loved ones to abandon hope,
to despair.

Love, it appears, can be a lie you tell,
or a smile you fake.

It's a pat on the back that we pass on.
And it's also a mother bringing a child into a world of suffering.

Love is a vile thing.
But it seems it's all we got.

"And so we go under,
victims of that universal cruelty which lives in the heart,
and in the world,
victims of the universal indifference to the fate of another,
victims of the universal fear of love,
proof of the absolute impossibility of achieving a life without love. "

-James Baldwin