Laala Kashef Alghata (18 February 1990)

My senses are imbedded deep within my mind’s monastery
with monks scribbling in focus to copy texts of my emotions
to record feelings and lies into my subconscious and desert
me in my reality, to make me able to wake from dreams
of all-consuming darkness, of my heart disappearing
and dissolving with acid to corrode life, those that I hold precious
unavailable, miles in between some of us and lies between
the others, such tight knots that life knits in the canvas
of our skin, irreplaceable prints of significance making
everyone unique unto themselves, a fingerprint to the world,
but an identity to me