Merak Magazine

Count of my Breath

I have been through mazes
and hurt multiple times;
The men I trusted
Breaking me apart,
The wrist’s been cut;
And the bleeding hasn’t stopped.
This path isn’t expanding,
But I am making way to the oncoming,
Back’s been patted
And my thick hair’s plucked,
I ain’t moving
But the walls are closing in.
The spikes have been summoned
By my own people,
I am a curse
To the father,
To the partner;
This shall end someday,
Just like the count of
My breath, everyday.

Hazik Hakeem
Hazik Hakeem
Articles: 491

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *