The mind chooses the worst times to be vacant. On the day I left, not a single thought came to my mind. I looked, I ate, I walked, but I can hardly remember thinking anything at all. It was never like that before, when me and my brother ran through mazes alone, finding each other and nothing else for years on end. I don’t think I thought anything then either, but I wish I did so that I could remember those times. The places and people that became so far away now engulf my mind when they have become so out of reach. I can still feel those memories, in a distant corner of my heart that gets warm when anything vaguely familiar is nearby. Sometimes in my dreams, I run through the mazes looking for the old him, for the old me, for something that feels right. Now I feel mature and intelligent, but I felt those things then too, even if I wasn’t. I feel wrong and right, but I simply want to feel that time. When I lingered at boards with art, writing, festivals, and any semblance of life that...
Smooth slopes to travel down For the dripping tears rarely released My blank face in its reflection Dumbfounded by her reaction To my question She turns around To hide what you can see in her eyes The image of her sons, brothers, fathers, and uncles Wrapped in white cloth By the thousands In her choked cries I hear their voices before they become a memory Smooth slopes to travel down For the people who ignore her tears For the people who ignore the men wrapped by the thousands In her voice, I think back, they weren’t the grunts of men They were laughs of children Cries of newborn babies Wrap yourself in warm white clothes Don’t forget that your position Is a privilege Smooth slopes to travel down For my tears when I’m alone Not created by the thousands of wrapped bodies But by the turning of their cheeks At the sight of a people’s disappearance Smooth slopes to travel down For people who think souls aren’t ...