Will you read this page ?
If I cry about my wasted years
Despite my young age
**
If I tell you about the orgasms that I faked
About that time when I nearly got raped
How my father used to hit me
Until I fainted
And all the trauma within me
**
The walls of traps that I’ve painted
In blue, for they wanted boys
In green, for all what this world destroys
In rainbow, for this life isn’t my choice
This life was forced down my throat like those tequila shots
The girl with the short dress dancing around bars
**
If I speak up about unhappy thoughts
How I hardly made peace with my skin
Marked with self doubt
And acne scars
Drowned in concealer and foundation
As subtly as they cover up for women segregation
**
How I beg my vocal chords to shout
For the words to come out
As I’m under pentobarbital sedation
And THC-stuffed cigars
Likewise my father’s honor-rage
Passed down to me like a heritage
**
How this bird keeps on returning
To the same old cage
Flying away isn’t something I could be learning
**
How it still hurts inside
To hide
In a 300 word poem
**
I look down at my wrist as I roam
How I bleed from within
All the inacceptance and the bad habits
That I’ve been begging you to release
All the discomfort and the unease
That shouldn’t describe a home
**
How I was told to count sheep
So I don’t have to think about therapy or healing
How I tuck myself to sleep
In a blanket of remorse
How I always expect to have it worse
**
How I like to think I’m never to feel loved
Because I’ve denied myself that feeling
Self-love doesn’t naturally come first
For those who are unable to count
And those who only drink to thirst.
Hassine Hadeel
Hadeel Hassine, a 23 year old Tunisian female, has discovered her passion for poetry and
writing briefly in the wake of Jasmin Spring, or so called the revolution.
She is currently proceeding her studies in dentistry, as a 3rd year student, in addition to
community work while carrying on with her writing and keeping her unpublished book under the pillow.
Contact hadeel : hadeel.hass7@gmail.com