The Hand I Was Dealt (& other poems)

by Omayma Khayat

I never understood this game –
the one that you play daily
as if called to by some higher power

face completely stale
like week old bread
left in an opened bag
no movement
no lines or wrinkles or smile
Botox some would say
I know better

your demeanor so stoic
playing life like it was a pair of cards
some days Queen of Hearts – love abound
some days nothing but spades
cutting the deck with scissors
rusted and dull and handles joined together
by invisible tape
like my life with you
dull and rusty and invisible
mismatching like a sock without its counterpart
in this relationship where my pair of eyes
need a pair of glasses to see your reality
but somehow the hand dealt gave me blinders instead
and no amount of righteousness left
uncovered
could prevent the broken heart
from beating right through the left breast
making a pair
unmatchable
unattainable

left right out in the open

Staring Up At Cracked Ceiling Paint At 3am

broken and out of breath
the beauty of our craziness
wraps itself up
as if a straight jacket were a winter coat
only taken out when temperatures drop

but crazy isn’t seasonal, its forever
when unmedicated and disregarded
when lying alone and staring up at cracked ceiling paint at 3am
when the world feels like its sword is at your neck – blade ready
and when you block your ears from hearing voices outside of your head

broken and out of breath
the beauty of our craziness
wrapped itself up
but your beauty was flawed
and in that flaw I found beauty
and you found nothingness

My Night Phloxes

The world is but a stage and you my lead actor
You who dances on clouds of cotton
Mouthing words of devotion
While catching fireflies in cupped palms
Blistered from the toils of the mundane

You are my night phloxes
My Casablanca lilies, my moon flowers
My angel trumpets
That find strength and bloom in the darkness
Of my heart
Your scent wafts through the airs that surround
Even my shadows

And you are my ship, on waters that rage
Vibrating like the elephant feets
During a stampede
Crashing into me, transmitting energy
I had been drained off

And you,
you are my wings, flying through the sky
Like moths attracted to light
Like the sun
Like the moon
When it shines
Like the stars that glitter and gleam
Like the lighthouse giving you refuge