Memories

Today my heart is hurt and I miss my good days.
I am awake and I can’t sleep.
This is how my patience and story goes:
The day is the same, the night is the same.
Nights never end—I am covered in the darkness under the blanket—Occupied
By fear and sadness.
My breath is stuck under my throat.
I want to shout!
The old days when my husband loved me, the days he said a romantic word to me,
Stick under my throat. I ask Allah, What is my sin? Why can’t you stop?
My suffering? Why can’t I get spiritual medicine?
But then I say, don’t take away the pain!
Leave it at this spot.
It pulls me towards myself.
I look into the eyes of people to see if they don’t want to hear me cry
I absorb their anger as if I have committed sin. I want to run far and far so that they don’t catch me!
But I have left someone behind. My daughter, my cute fairy
My feet tremble . . . I look back . . . blurred faces appear, my daughter and the dreadful home. I
chose her, and the dreadful home chose me. I smile as if nothing happened.
She is alone . . . I come back but then I am back to the jam of problems.
I wish I couldn’t have returned.
What if she weren’t there? If I could have left?
Then I feel the warmth of my mother’s arms telling me, Baby, don’t cry—you are my powerful
daughter. Have patience and Allah will listen.

I look at her with reddish eyes.
I want to hold my mom tight, but she isn’t here.
I am alone, all on my own.
Still, if I know Happiness is near, I am sure I will smile and never fear again.

By Pakiza

Photo: DVIDSHUB under Creative Commons license


Comments

  1. Pakiza,

    I am sorry for you to have such pain in your heart and such difficulty in your life. Your words are so strong. It is hard to lose someone who brings you love and reassurance but I am glad you have your daughter and the memory of your mother. Your mother had faith in you and knew your strength. I hope this will sustain you.

    Gail

  2. Dear Pakiza,
    Your poem is so sad, yet there is light and strength here, too. I hope writing gives you comfort, knowing that we are out here sending you hope and prayers.
    Sally

  3. Alex Porter says:

    Pakiza,
    I pray that this poem is not a reflection of your own life. If it is, then I can only hope that either things have changed, or that they will change soon. The fact that the woman’s daughter is used as a metaphorical leash to keep her from leaving the horrible home is what truly depresses me. The poor little girl is completely innocent of any crime, yet she is the biggest barrier between her mother and happiness. Here very existence is what creates this, but it’s also something she has no control over. I do wonder why the mother simply doesn’t run away with her daughter. Does she think doing so will give her a poor childhood? Or would society completely ostracize the both of them and the mother doesn’t want her daughter to suffer the same fate? The final part also confuses me. Is it the same speaker, or is the daughter if she was left behind? Nevertheless, I felt it was a sad tale which I naively hope doesn’t happen in real life.

  4. Pakiza–
    I am blown away by the pain written into this piece, however I am glad you shared it. I hope this is not you that cannot sleep every night. However, I really like how the piece was written. I thought that it was a good way to show what was going on and how you felt while this event was occurring. Keep up the great writing!

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