I drink from the skull of my father
The poison delicious, dark lager
It fuels return fire, and his ire
Inspires within me the bitch and the liar
There is no escape, once stripped
Bolted children to a script
So venom flows and within me grows
To expose decay to ravens and crows
With every revolution ‘round the sun
Through work and sweat, I feel I’ve won
Only again to be taught that the rot
Is not anything I could ever stop
There is no victory over your own bones
Your own flesh, land, earth and stones
This cancer is my energy, my legacy
Chemically me, my entirety
As me as my sinful snatch that bleeds
My wired brain that craves weed
My scarred arms, flesh I harm
Alarms the sweet; but others, charms
This is me: I dance; I drink sulfur
In defiance of decency and culture
I paint in red and I rejoice in dread
Instead of simply dropping dead
Hejaz Jalal is a new poet who writes in Arabic, French, and English about the queer Muslim experience in the Middle East and the feminist perspective in Saudi Arabia. Prohibited from studying science by her father, she now writes poetry and science fiction.
Instagram: @hejaz.jalal
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