For all my love of words,
i can’t seem to say the right
to shake the shake from your bones
to hold you close despite the distance
and whisper those wordless comforts
For all my love of words,
i could never show you around myself
a guided tour of my childhood
and to the left you’ll see the man who almost molested me
to the right you’ll see the man who’s voiced his desire to fuck me
over and over
despite me never reciprocating
despite me refusing to hold his hand
to touch him.
ahead is grandma’s last christmas dinner
and the cherry ham she slaved on.
behind the overpass that broke
into my dreams
the closest i have is these
Arabic characters assembled haphazard
with disregard to grammar
and dripping with everything i hope you’ll understand.
For all my love of words,
they’ll never be enough.
