we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Lost and blue

When she decided to end her life, in a way she ended mine too.

 

Suicide takes away, and the loss stays fresh forever.

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Light a candle,
let it glow.
It’s a new year,

she would say.
I recite her name
in my head
whenever I feel
lost and blue.
She told me once,
I will always be
here for you.

But the memory of her presence
still burns on my body. 

Think of no sadness,
she would say.
I recite her favorite poem
about a life of gladness.
My smile vanishes
with my tears.
I have not left,
I am up above
with God, together,
watching over you. 

I yearn for the times
we spent together.
Her memories are
locked inside my heart
forever.

I watch fireworks,
reminding myself
it is a new year—
what can I wish for
when you are no longer here?
I pray to God to take
the pain away,
to send you back to me.
Is He even listening?

Please, wait for me,
until my days are through.
We shall reunite someday
in a place we both call home.

Zeina Azzam.
Mentor: Zeina Azzam

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