Not Crazy... But Might Be

By Aiman Barjees

Two mismatched socks refuse to speak

Miles apart, but both on my feet.

My toes have swelled, my body disproportionate,

Someone who shouldn't be here, talks in my ear.

I feel less awake, though I've washed my face,

With my pillow cover, still wet with tears.

Her name is sacred, the one who could save me,

The will to live, they say I should have it.

Don't be a nightmare! I reprimand the nightmare.

Don't hurt! I admonish the cuts bleeding under the blade.

By Aiman Barjees