The Arrival

We’ve arrived; sleep deprived with swollen feet. All I want right now is my bed. My brother is waiting in the line to check in our luggage for the domestic flight. I’m sitting inside the airport, under a fake tree with my mum. The sun is slowly beginning to rise. Amazing where we started our day and now where we’ve ended.

It’s quite beautiful here; the swarms of men parading in white thobes with a few dots of yellow. The yellow shirted men help with luggage and are distinctly foreign looking whilst the men in white are Arabs. Power imbalances at work, clear for all to notice. Oh! I forgot the cleaners in blue. There aren’t many of them around here, just a handful.

The gentle breeze comforts me; slowly brushing across my face and providing light relief from the heat.

My brother’s gone to the bathroom, again. If anyone knows him, they will tell you he’s no stranger to a bathroom. In fact he practically lives in them!

© Amy Serafina

The Journey Begins

And so, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

In the car towards the airport, I do the mandatory fb update. A status to indicate the journey of a lifetime. And even then, the hesitancy of what I should write. How it might be taken or perceived. Even then I am mindful of others.

My heart though, it begins to yearn. I can’t describe the yearning. There are no words. It’s a feeling; pressured and rushed. It just knows that it NEEDS to get there, soon, quick, NOW.

The heart wants what it wants, and neither logic nor wisdom can prevent it so.

© Amy Serafina

I tried to forget you.

I locked you out of my 
thoughts but you seem 
to carry a spare key. 


I've tried erasing your voice
but every songbird sounds
like it must've took
lessons from you.


Every dust swirl and cloud puff
paints portraits of your
face.
 
Every still stream
knits quilts of your
reflection on its watery
skin.

You were the sun and I
had been staring too
long. Because every time
I blink 
you are still all I see.


Shakieb Orgunwall

Sometimes

Sometimes I don’t say a word,

I listen to the prose you utter,
The unspoken rules that you mutter.

Sometimes I don’t open my mouth,
I hear your twisted logic,
Your conventional ways of being prolific.

Sometimes I don’t do a thing,
I stare at your confident mannerisms,
Your obvious terrorism's.

© Amy Serafina

Goodbyes

Goodbyes are hard. Reminders that what was will never be again.

© Amy Serafina

The Unsaid

And sometimes it's the unsaid that kills you inside. 
Trapped like a venomous spear,
angling to rip through.
The unsaid.
The unknown.
Flowing through your veins,
crushing your soul.

© Amy Serafina

After a while you learn...

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security,

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult,
Not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong.
And you really do have worth,

and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…

Veronica A. Shoffstall