Out of Breath

Artwork by Josie.

Artwork by Josie.

Grief, the Last Name of Every Palestinian

Grief, the last name of every Palestinian

The lump in our chests called Palestine 

Keeping us alive under blue skies raining rockets and poisonous gas 

I knew life since I knew death when I was fourteen, writing to keep myself in check so trauma doesn’t swallow me like it swallowed my hometown

Big monstrous clouds of smoke choking life out of me kept my eyes wide open 

My faith knew no God

How does God welcome colonizers when they go to hell 

Do they evidently go to hell? 

 

Today I held an olive branch in my arms, thought that my family will stay safe underneath it

How naive 

I wrote about being a child of war many times 

I knew grief like the back of my hand yet grief fails to recognize me every time it visits me 

It keeps on coming back like it never knew my lungs 

I can’t breathe 

The lump in my chest called Palestine is keeping me alive 

But I can’t breathe 

How can your lungs keep swallowing blue skies filled with smoke that leave you with lumps that keep you alive 

I am not a monster 

I’m just a child 

My poems with happy endings weaving hope into pain are no longer speaking 

Even they 

Gave up on me

I’m a child of war 

I am not scared of death 

Grief is my last name 

And Palestine is a lump in my chest keeping me alive.

the woodpecker’s agony

distraction is a privilege when agony builds up at the depth of my throat 

when i see the woodpecker at the top of the maple tree and hear hope

when i cross the street running to class hoping i’m not late 

there is a certain agony to the disturbed mundanities

like a tear dropping when you’re staring at your screen drinking your coffee 

she asks me, “your usual?” 

i forgot that i wasn’t normal

that no matter how many prayers i give out 

“قل لن يصيبنا إلا ما كتب الله لنا”

“never will we be struck except by what Allah has decreed for us;” 

i wish i could give up 

i wish that the woodpecker would stop pecking; would stop reminding me that life is bursting through this air 

i wish the sun would stop shining 

that the world could stop 

this mundanity is only reminding me of the agony that’s swallowing me 

this normality 

this okayness 

this silence that is deafening that is howling that is crying that is quiet 

this beauty 

it reminds me of the rubble that my home turned into 

this violent calmness 

regularity 

this peacefulness is launching war inside of me

i wish i was normal 

i wish that my tears would stop falling that the woodpecker, this goddamned woodpecker would stop pecking, would stop living, would stop reminding me that life is still going 

that i am alone in my pain 

that this silence is deafening 

that i will wake up tomorrow and try again 

this agony keeps building up at the depth of my throat 

reminding me that home is no longer home 

but that life keeps going. ◆


Hanaa is a Palestinian student from Gaza, currently majoring in Psychology and Spanish in Gambier, Ohio. She won the MLK Jr. Humanitarian Award for Social Justice at her college and published reviews at the Kenyon Review. Find Hanaa on Instagram.