Dreamwork has offered a little relief, but the dreams of the conscious mind are loaded with debris and uncertainty.

In Gaza books were my refuge; they had a special smell and distinctly flavored pages that I could taste with my eyes.

One year ago Israel killed 21 members of my family. This has driven me to speak louder for Palestinians.

My son wants to know when he can go to school again, when he can go home to his bicycle, and when the war will end.

Her ‘laboratory of joy’ unites our family despite genocide and displacement.

Had not this year gone by, I’d never know / That three hundred sixty-five days unfold / In ink-black shadows.

In Octobers, /  the summer said farewell. / A shivering cold stood at the door.

Escaping Gaza has been a journey into the unknown, a quest for safety wrapped in pain and guilt. Was I right to leave?

Israel forces Palestinians to re-live the trauma of losing their homes, when they must use their contents as firewood.

A year of fear / A year of sleeplessness /  A year of breathlessness  / A year of loss

I witnessed the aftermath of Israel’s strike on Shuhdaa Alqsaa Hospital, where fire left behind unimaginable horror.

For many, the attack on Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital left both the living and the dead beyond recognition.