One Year

By -Sarah B-

Mornings become mournings,
witnessing new worst worsts.
Group chats flood with news
forwards and check-ins,
still alive,
for now.
I watch my neighbour pace,
el wad3 sa3b.
Fridge filled with Tupperware from
a coping mother cooking.
Every sentence ends with a prayer,
Hamdillah.
Another Halloween, I am haunted
by bones and blood, because in
Falastine,
there’s no pretend.

We watch our skies light up,
with weapons custom designed for
us.
People become landmines in
Lebanon.
Detonate. Decimate.
Desecrate. Des/create. create from
desecreation:
ovens out of oil cans,
wind powered electricity from
plastic fans,
sewing machines run by bicycle
wheels,
life from destruction,
hope from telling,
truth. read more