by Mahbubat Salahudeen
my days are a calendar of pain
my nights are like a thousand pins embedding themselves
into the succulent graves
on my tongue
where did life go when I wanted
to live, where was living when I yearned & needed to feel alive
everyday on my calendar
of pain has a bad
habit of nestling inside me without
permission and nights are a kissing shadow of tribulations and
mourning the loss of yet
another life that
continues without existence, shrouded
in blankets of solitude or sinking into something empty I still want
to live, to move forward,
time for me is
still standing at a standstill waiting_
waiting for me to catch up, I am re-birthing myself and writing
all of these poems & breathing
them life &
making them fly maybe everything will
make sense & break free from the museless and emptiness of
days and nights words
can’t birth
I am un-knotting myself and drawing each
breath maybe everything will bring me back to life or maybe
this end is just the
beginning of
another end and when the time comes
I will live again
© 2022 Mahbubat Salahudeen All rights reserved.
“The Beginning of Another End” has been previously published by Brittle Paper.
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