Out of Breath
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.