Take My Hands

Take My Hands

by Norwan

Where can I talk?

Where can I tell my untold stories?

              Where

              Where

              Where

I speak from under my burqa

I am not allowed to speak aloud

I am an Afghan woman

I breathe poisons.

I am not allowed to breathe the fresh air you breathe

I look outside the window of my burqa

It seems as if there is

No hope

No light

I see nothing but hopeless dreams

I see nothing but

            Darkness

            Darkness

            Darkness

It seems as if the doors of victory are closed

            Locked

            Locked

            Locked

There is no door in the jungle of wild thought.

I want a light to see my way

I want nothing else but

to live the way I want to live

to live the way I deserve.

I want to release myself

From the prison of a voiceless land.

From the tribe of silent

            Dead

            Burned, women

Help me.

Take my hands.

It is not written in my destiny

To burn myself.

Can you hear me?

I am a voice of my dead silent generation

I speak from under my burqa

I am not allowed to speak aloud

            Where can I talk?

            Where can I tell my untold stories?

Where can I buy a light?

Pabot, Susannah E., comp. The Sky Is a Nest of Swallows. First ed. Belleville, 2012.

Afghan Women Writer's Project: http://awwproject.org/

Available on Amazon

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