She said love is like gambling
and she always loses.
She said it’s a bad habit
that she does not dare give up.
She said she’s afraid of light
even though the light she’s spent was
She’s content with her solitude
and she does not care for
Still she falls from her cloud
whenever rain guides her to her land.
She said she’s ro bust but futile
and gentle despite herself.
Still she feigns roughness
because affection like love
is a bad habit
and so is silence
which she’ll never quit.
She said she’s bored
not even good enough for sleep
but she sleeps to remain like a fetus
drowned in the waters of oblivion.
She says she’s a tired woman
bleeding from her wound
wishing to never heal.
She said she’s loser by nature,
a loser so that she’ll deserve her
She said at last that life is a bad habit
which she hopes to maintain
with a little bit of will power
and a great deal of forgetfulness.
| Joumana Haddad |