Homie Home

I came with many questions
And ended up negotiating my
Right to write few words.
My way is hideous, I know
My life is a confusion between
The Yes and the NO.
But today I know how death smells like
How burned flesh smells like
And I realized
That my body is addicted to splinters
That the world is as plain
Still and empty
As the moment of creation

My stifled voice is a black shadow
That shall haunt the world
And teach humanity how to speak
Speechless as I am
Hungry
Angry
Naked
Abandoned as I am
I don't have a story
No… don't ask me
Yes!! I have answers
But they simply won't suit your emptiness
They are not for your  short tagged questions.

Let's play a game the little kids
Murdered in Gaza used to play
"homie home"
Let's pretend that our tent is our home
Our home
Let us pretend that our hearts are not broken
Just like our broken mosques
"homie home"