My mind is scorched,
shaped into a bullet form.
The bullet is running
through my head,
diving in my thoughts,
echoing screaming sounds.
I hear the violent groans of
a half-burnt mother,
a handless father,
a son running, collapsing in his blood,
a daughter with half body cut;
half lays there and the other half lays here;
a sister with cloths burnt, naked,
a brother with one shoe on
and the other shoe baked in fire;
children with heads bombed;
flesh hanging across tree branches,
they stuck, hanging like Autumn leaves
across the street walls, and windows.
I feel them through:
I see them before my eyes.
I am scared of the darkness,
I can’t sleep without the light on.
I try to block myself from all these,
but they break free and get inside.
It’s impossible to escape these all.
my mouth is sewed shut,
advised to hold to keep quiet,
I keep still, choose the silence
with no word to be uttered –
the only noise you hear is,
how I am suffering,
or how the bullet shot into my head,
how the screams roam across my mind.
@Abdul Samad Haidari