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Terrorist?
It’s nighttime.
Are you sleeping?
My mind’s wandering.
Nothing seems right.
Over and over again I’m,
Thinking.
Again I sleep.
Taking the 6 train
Early morning
Reading the paper
Raindrops falling
Over and over again.
Ready to start the day, I was ready.
Inhuman, the front page said.
Staring. Crying. They’re watching.
Taking a look in the mirror, frowning.
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As a young Muslim woman living in such intense times, I fear what the actions of others may mean for me and the ones I love. So I write. I bleed on paper.