Tuesday

Not a Humanitarian, barely human


I- 
I am a humanitarian, or so I have been told.
So it says on the job description …
Then why is it that I have never felt this close
To losing the latest bits of my Humanity…
To my  sanity...
Why is it that I feel like a storm in a cage…
Like a worm in a badly written book…
Why am I  holding a Band-aid … when there is a flood … of blood?

Laughable.

Ants … I feel like an ant and every hope is a mountain…
I am an ant defying the Gods…
David? A tale, to make me believe…
Tonight I shall not
Tonight I can not…


II-

Have you been to Chatilla,
To Haret el tanak in Mina?
O the ongoing crime!
The ongoing crime is not Death
But the HIDEOUS…

When your eyes get accustomed to darkness
And your heart dries out like an autumn leaf
It is not poverty… not only that you see
But the crushing of souls …
And you can hear bodies breaking
Shhhh no one knows…

Let them die again
No one is aware of the smell of skin
Burning on the fire of the Ugly
No one can see me now
Melting from cold anger
When I Keep telling my Self
The same story my friends tell me 
"Dima...
You need a thicker skin
You need a thicker skin "

DS

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