we are not numbers

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

Where were you, Mama?

They burned me, Mama / My heart was crying / Because my eyes melted / From the fire.
Young woman with hijab.
LIttle child covered in dust and bleeding.
Artist: Aya Shaqalean, Flyers for Falestin

 

They burned me, Mama.
My heart was crying
Because my eyes melted
From the fire.

I wanted you, Mama
To take me back to your womb
I was waiting for you,
Where have you been, Mama?

The people were screaming
I heard them,
But, I didn’t know why.
Were they waiting for you, Mama?

The fire was eating me, Mama
I told it that I’m still young,
But hungrily,
Fire devoured me anyway.

When my soul
Went to the heaven Mama,
I saw my body was black
And the fire lit the sky with orange.

I found you Mama
You were hugging me
I saw your body,
You were hugging me
As I became ashes in the fire.

Wendy Goldsmith.

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