On Emotion & Identity

By Azaan Izzam

When the stranger slurred and articulated hate,

the events leading to it was of no importance.

What mattered was the sheer rage,

The most relevant emotion that I upheld as truth.

My reaction of violence was the truest gesture of action,

In that moment, it was all sane and righteous.

In that moment, I was founded.

My most naked self only possible in and through this anger.

It was purely and surely me.

When the grief swept all through my home,

The events leading to it was of no importance.

What mattered was the penetrating sorrow in all things I knew.

For that time, this uninvited sadness was truth in all its glory.

In that moment, I understood deeply and fully,

That I know myself the most in sadness.

In true sadness, my mind parts an identity to my being.

It was purely and surely me.

When us friends met for dinner in that cultured restaurant,

And we celebrated in elation,

The events leading to it was of no importance.

What mattered was the excitement and companionship.

For that time, happiness was the truth and truth alone.

In that moment, my identity was born from this unparalleled excitement.

Although I had seen it a hundred times before.

In such camaraderie, did I find an idea of my identity.

For that night, did my identity was found in joy,

It was purely and surely me.

But beyond grief, anger and excitement,

I see an emptiness capable of only observing.

No nature of its own.

An identity that moves like clouds but only anchored in habits I chose.

Tireless strides against subconscious makeup,

And rest conscious social spending of time.

Alone, something tries to hold everything in place,

Till the glorious sleep calls.

In emotion I seem to find a place to stay,

At home, I am done searching.

By Azaan Izzam