Writer: Farida Ahmed
Editor: Doaa Saady
Back arched with a tonnage of realizations,
Forehead creases pooling despair,
Fingernails sinking in palms,
Their words were never soft,
Yet their hearts never lacked compassion,
It’s like they were cutting me with a blunt blade,
But the blood was as red as it would be with a tapered sharp one,
The agitated thudding of my pounding heartbeats is deafening,
Drowning out the pain of my toes stepping on the shards of their glass-like words,
I realized,
Some friends are like hands,
Turns out my hands were balled into clenched fists,
The skin above my knuckles was turning pearly-white,
My fingers were rolled into bullets of fury,
And I either loosen up,
Or lose them.
However,
Some are like the same bullets of fury,
They hide behind their facade of toothy grins and supportive clappers,
They disguise into the prettiest forms and you’ll fall for it,
They camouflage into skillful fingers trying to scribble oceans of ways to help you,
Turn out they’re trying to extinguish your existence,
By their asphyxiating ash,
They will look you straight in the eye,
And blow at the top of their lungs.
