Oh dear heart,
Would you mind painting what you’re feeling
So my hands could write it out as a poem?
Even an art of a drown crying cat would do
Or the picture of a lonely dog by the gate
Or better, a hungry child with dead parents.
Oh dear heart,
Would you mind whispering to the sky
So it could sing me a song through the lips of a lonely night
And I could smile like a molested three year old being pointed with a knife
Or better, laugh while a shard of a shattered glass kissed my palm?
Oh dear heart,
Would you mind sashaying into the room of darkness
So my feet could majestically dip into the basket of a saharan desert
And a smile would appear on my lips
Lifting my bottle and having the last drip of water suck by the sand?
Aisha U. Faruk
She had always knew what her proble
