The Place Where I Belong

She calls me, breathless. "It was amazing," she panted. "I loved it. I was made for this, Ima. I need it." Patched up by the threads trailing behind her gathering into a seam sewn with every fall and knotted with each triumphant rise, my lungs fill. My hands slow their spasms. My head sweeps the … Continue reading The Place Where I Belong

They Cannot Gun Us All

They've come to kill us, these poisoned hearts. They've come to take our innocent and young. They've come to cut down our wise and wizened. They've come to slash our soft and pure. They seep into our waters across oceans and fields of tranquility. They march in step to a raging scream a hatred pulsing … Continue reading They Cannot Gun Us All

Curtain Call

My thoughts running through the maze I hold inside my pounding skull keep me company reminding me when my eyes search for love for understanding for hope I am not alone.   I am tied to the whispers the whipping post I toss over one shoulder and the never-ending scorn scraping my open wounds.   … Continue reading Curtain Call

The Tides we Don’t Follow

We are first man and woman. We have created ourselves from the ribs of non-believers. We have no original sin to dictate our morals, no code passed down for generations. The string we hang from frays with every step towards the edge of this puppet stage. And this step, this leap away from tradition, this will cut the cord.

On Open Houses and Choice in a Foreign Tongue

It is early in the morning. She rests her head against my shoulder, twisting her body around in an attempt to find a comfortable position. I sit as still as I can, knowing she will turn again and again until we finally get there. I’ve learned to be the rock she circles; forever keeping me … Continue reading On Open Houses and Choice in a Foreign Tongue

Mourning my Son with no Name

The flutters intensify every year as we light the last candle. Eight flames burning is the signal; the moment we start counting down the week until our baby’s birthday, three days before his death. This year, my womb contracted wildly with the news of another boy torn from his mother too early… too violently. I held my … Continue reading Mourning my Son with no Name

A Million Shades of Green

I’m like Garfield, just different, she says as she pulls on Freddie Mercury’s orange fur, baiting him. I like lasagna, but I hate Sundays. She laughs as Freddie pounces. I don’t bother disciplining her about the cat again. Their love is wild and free-spirited. Plus, she likes the way he makes her look like a … Continue reading A Million Shades of Green

Doing Something

For 515 days, my sister and I shared my Facebook profile picture, smiling to the world from a little circle above my name. My cover photo was taken that time we went to Jerusalem and she posed with my children on Yoel Solomon Street. 515 days ago I sat down and looked through all my pictures … Continue reading Doing Something

Ceasefire

In between war and peace, there is a space where words like ceasefire float around as though they mean something more than pause. For me, a ceasefire is like a Stage IV cancer diagnosis. You know it’s something you’re going to have to deal with. You just don’t know how long you have to brace … Continue reading Ceasefire