Falasteen

I was told by the first parents who raised me that I was born in a different way, to be more accurate they told me I was found in an alley that is between a mosque and a church in Palestine. I was found naked wrapped by a rag and pieces of paper puzzles shattered all over my body, and the ink of each piece of the puzzle was leaving a stamp over my skin, the words were almost wiped off, but they managed picking the pieces together though it took them 250 days, for the puzzle was long and each piece of a different language , but no one ever told me what they meant, they kept it as a secret , I don’t ask them about the puzzle anymore, for I am the type who is satisfied with one and only one answer, which it was always no!. I grew up in a normal pace, just like any child, with three sisters and a brother. I never felt like I was a burden upon my first family, my eldest sister was very passionate about cooking and baking, she used to bake me a banana cake for she knew it was my favorite, and put it in my school lunch box. I had to make sure no one takes a piece of that cake. at home it felt peaceful, whenever I lay my head into my first mother Falasteen lab, I felt like my heart beat and hers are one, united in the same body, as if I can see each beat, her heart was special as much as mine. Her heart has its own lullaby, each beat pacifies me, it was loud and clear, mine is full of heat and warmth, she used to put her hand over my heart and starts reading parts of a book I never understood, but it felt peaceful and beautiful. This is my definition for beauty and peace.  

I can see the shuttered pieces

Oh lord, It is killing me.

that despicable feeling, the fear of being left behind,  another black and white photograph hanged on that yellow empty part of the wall. Unnoticed, dusty over time, untouchable.

whether a friend a lover or even a stranger, never let them get the best of you. My grandmother used to tell me, whenever you think that happiness is with a person, leave him before he leaves you. I remember her stories , her smiles that were tears before but it cold stoned her heart, helpless she became, all what  is left of her are her stories, with that cold stone smile. He used to hit her I know, she knows …even he knows.

I remember the times I saw the best of my friends hurt, broken, even shuttered to pieces. God they were too young, even I. I thought I was different, I forced my pride to shout into strangers’ faces, without uttering a single word. I made this armor for myself, I reinforced it with the sad desperate plain faces of those whom I loved, I didn’t want to be next, never going to happen to me, I….will protect the beating of my heart, never let it skip a beat or fall.

Life is unexpected, I had a best friend, I still have her somewhere, not right next to me , but somewhere. I guess she faded over time, we used to be so close at school, never apart. We had each other back, I got you my friend. We grew up, still together. If you ask me what are the things that you still share, I would say memories. We are connected only because of these 6 years before memories, somehow she chose not to renew them, but to me, it seemed that I was replaced.  I became that black and white photograph on the yellow part of the wall. She visited me in my dreams, not because I can’t see her in reality, but because I’ve missed the shape of us together.,When my heart was shuttered to pieces, for that I was replaced and placed in oblivion, I saw in my face the same colors that I have seen in the faces of the ones I’ve loved….sad plain and desperate.

Love has many shapes and faces, but in each shape you will find a rock that will be thrown aiming at your heart, leaving it shuttered into pieces.

I still love you and I will always do.