This poem I started awhile back, but as the conflict got progressively worse, I added on.
She fights two wars on the daily,
She left her country, discontent
Show us your braids Sarah America said , so we too can lament the fact that we tore your land in two and tangled your hopes and dreams leaving them frayed seams your citi tries to sow
A starry sky shown bright through, not two, but four of her diseased eyes
At least that’s what the neighbor said, her eyes were diseased she needed glasses because she was the one who couldn’t see but
She called everyday
Yamma you said this would stop
Yamma you said I have something to prove
Yamma , all she did was move
Baba said that teta Packed her dust pressed bags
Last few pictures leaning on a broken door, wood not glass,
See moving has become genetic for my people, the people of Jenin as well as other people of Falasteen
Now doors of metal plates, every house has to defend from a solider gone mad
He’s gone mad because he is sickened and deafened by the cries of privilege
But she thought honor was greater than privilege so she kept washing dishes
Only to cut her finger, on tiny Jewish cups, scarred but it didn’t sting because her nerves were shot down
Broken. No longer did she feel,
in fact she was willing to steal for the family next door, towel windows,
Plastic bag flags.
She used to pledge to flag she thought was freedom, placed her hand over her shaking heart
But this flag was drenched in blood red manifest destiny.
She stopped pledging and began to read letter and letter until she found that complacency was a silent killer.
In sound proof rooms her family lives where the outside watches in awe while children bang on tinted windows, screaming and rubbing noses on glass, but ignoring them was taught in class, because the curls on their head didn’t matter like the curls on the side of yours
One day she was very alone, but a sweet boy called from downstairs while suds where still in her hair
Sweet baby boy lanky with green blue eyes begging her to get dressed and come outside
She climbed the almond tree, 19 years old she felt free, American definition she forgot,
She said this is free.
This was free.
Show us your braids Sarah
So we too can lament that our July freedom and your Gazan redemption is a misconception,
Stop speaking in your tongue and stay silent as we pay
Giving a country power to turn night into day.
We destroyed people’s before and we will take another narrative once more
Sarah stay silent with us, Sarah don’t cry because freedom ain’t free.
But she saw her first shooting star,
On concrete roof not feeling so far.
This was free, this was free.