Undefined Hues


Am a woman of fifteen and

A girl of pure youth


Don’t ask me to explain

Why I want things I don’t have and

Have things I don’t want


Time has locked me

Behind these furrowed eyebrows

And screeching brain

And left me nothing but

The beating of my heart,

Reminding me of the knowledge I’m gaining

And the innocence

I’m losing


Time has whipped me

And steered me

Alongside the mules of my country

The jewels of my country

Abused and scarred

Like the jewels of my youth

That refuse to sparkle as they should


Unrecognized, ignored, shunned,

And abandoned

All the sun had to do was shine on those jewels-

But it didn’t


And so the treasures of my youth

Became the weight on my shoulders

And the braids in my hair

Became ties of lies

And suppressed emotions


Sinking behind this façade

Of sealed lips and sewn smiles

I began to uncover the depth

Behind this art of suppression


As though every unspoken word

Spoke more about who I am


The gift time has given me

The beating of my heart,

Is also the beating I suffer

From my heart


And I say this

Having sipped from the glass

Of my own tears

And screamed

From the deafening sound

Of my own silence

All to ignore the painful reality

Behind my own thoughts


The heat of my Arabian blood

Has given me an eternal fever

I cannot sweat out

A fever of misplaced passion

And throbs of regret


But on who should I blame this?

You, for stealing what was left in my

Box of pride?

Or my box of pride for

Not having a lid


And what will that make me

Without pride, security,

Or even respect?

Loose, weak, impotent, or shameful

I don’t want to label myself;

Yet hence I am labeled

As the girl who will not label


Sir, my silhouette defines me

Your judgment does not

And Sir, time has stolen from us both

But left me with a heart


Let me speak, Sir

On behalf of the young women

Much like myself

Who suffer through the exposed feeling

Your penetrating eyes trigger

Your insulting glances of desire

And huger

That we deal with by

Remaining silent



Am a woman of fifteen and

A girl of pure youth

All I’ve got left in my pocket

Is a list of unspoken words

Itching at the back of my head

And rolling off the tip of my tongue


But youth has left me

Innocence has died within me

And time has silenced me


They say freedom is in the mind

But so is imprisonment



Am a woman of fifteen and

A wilting flower of time



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s