Nour AbouelSaad Poems

There is no plural for grief,
The word itself is an uncountable noun,
Maybe because grief can't withstand company,
A chemical reaction,
...

The monster is behind closed doors,
Hiding under the bed,
At the end of the road,
Or the ceasing of light,
...

My hands are ready,
I type a space,
Then another,
Words should come out,
...

Tell me I will be safe, and I won't be sorry for the paths I have chosen,
Or the ones you pursued me to follow,
Tell me I won't deal with fear again, or the agony of departure,
It won't be easy, but promise me you will try to faint the expected miseries and veil them with caring,
...

If we ever stop talking,
Send me a song,
A eulogy to an unfinished story,
That will eternally remain unfinished,
...