HIS HAND
By Amelia Abdullah   Dear mama,Mama
The first word of love to ever leave my lips
The strongest name to call a woman
The hardest job to take on
The mightiest soldier to ever walk the planet
The most beautiful grace to ever touch our hearts
Each day you rise with the only intent of providing for yours
The children you encased with love in your tummy
And the ones you birthed through pain and agony
And patience
Taking time to slowly learn our every desire
And love all our flaws into our strengths
You pursue your dreams through building ours
You give yourself up to make us bigger, stronger, and smarter
For all the times you stood by me
For all the love you gave to me
You lifted me up
Higher than the stars just so you could have something to look up to
Something that reflects your beauty and love in return
Three similar faces that resound in your heart
Three faces that belong to your skin
A mother’s love could break any barriers
Formed between her child and any enemies
A mother’s love is the strongest bond
Specifically crafted by God himself
To share time and space with a creation and their creator
A mother’s love resides in me
Through you
My creator     Sea Life
The lack of gravity swiftly grabs my interest
As I float on top of a new world.
Colorful life one hundred feet beneath me
Magnetically attracts my focus
Of serene magnificence.
Fishes of vibrant colors put the rainbow to shame
As they feed off the coral reefs
Which house fishes by the hundreds
In curvy cubbies protecting them from enemies.
Random flamboyant sea fans waving hello
With their thin mesh frame
Acting as a shade for some
Scattered star fishes who lie on the sea floorLethargic and stationary
Next to their slimy twin
The sea cucumber.
Slithering snakes moving fluidly
Towards their prey.
Bubble-like jelly fishes pump towards the sky
With their sensational long legs.
Admiring the hidden treasures of the sea
In a breathtaking moment.
Fascination of underwater life
Relaxing my every cell.
Thoughts of reality disappear
As I slowly become one with the sea.
     His HandMy light skinned skinny little fingers intertwined with his dark long fingers.
Our hands rested on his long dark jeans.  His hand was warm and soft.  Sort of comforting.
We were on the school bus with other high school kids who were rambling on about their day but
I focused on our hands.  The contrast was outstanding and made me worry a little.
I couldn’t help thinking about what people would think about an African American and an Asian dating.
People love to talk and spread unnecessary lies.  My family wasn’t too welcoming of other races but
I was always taught to never judge people so maybe they would be ok with it.
We were friends just the day before but today we were holding hands the way couples do.
I never had a boyfriend before so I wasn’t sure if these butterflies should be in my stomach.
He sat slouching a little in a navy blue polo collared top.  He had his black book bag in his lap. 
He had a low haircut that was shaped up nicely, full lips, deep brown eyes, slightly long eyelashes, and a flat nose.
He had no pimples or facial hair.  I had seen him every single school day but today he stood out. 
He had a mature sex appeal that I couldn’t help but be attracted to.  He voice seemed gentler.  His gaze seemed like a God’s Angel looking at you awaiting for your demands.
He whispered something in my ear but I couldn’t really focus on anything but him.  I finally had a boyfriend.  For the first time, I was going to feel what love was like.  Or at least get to feel a guy holding me.
He leaned over and asked if I would be his girlfriend.  I looked him in the eyes and gave him a nervous cheesy grin and said, “Yes.”
We were at my stop, so I let his hand go.  As I got up and started to walk off, I looked at him.  His eyes and soft smile told me not worry.
Everything was going to be ok.     Here We Go Again…Slowly our laughter faded into silence.
We were eves dropping on the dispute between them occurring in the bathroom.
It was hard to hear but we felt the hostility shooting us down.
I thought to myself, “Here we go again.”
He came out giving us that evil look…the one that could kill.
As he made his way to the stairs, the same anger in his eyes showed in our eyes. 
We returned to watching the VMAs then, she came out yelling about something irrelevant. 
She made no sense and neither did their argument. 
Why are we fighting over the small things these?
What ever happened to being a family?
Why is it so easy to point and blame?
Confused we scrambled at her request trying to figure out how to turn this mishap into laughter.
We could not fulfill her wish so she yelled more aggressively.
As we headed to bed, our heads hung low in disappointment.
Questions and actions replay in my head at attempts to understand the situation.
I guess I was not supposed to understand so I remained angry and puzzled.
I fell asleep thinking about how we got to this point and if there was any hope to bring back the joy.
I hope the future looks brighter because my brothers and I are simply lost.
Mommy is hurting and Ahmad refuses to leave.     FatherHis ugly unshaved chubby face disgusts me.  I only see the wrinkled forehead
The evil eyes, and all the hurtful names on his lips. 
His thinning hair does nothing to compliment “Devil” written on his forehead.
He stands 5’10” with a bulging stomach and stick legs.  His big hands
Only remind me of the past.
I remember the beatings as a child…and the beating for my boyfriend.
I never forget the look he gave me every time he yelled.
Fire red face and nostrils flared as if breathing all the oxygen for the world.
The heavy breathing that made his chest move faster than a baby’s.
His eyes would always be red…red as the blood that was in my eye from being hit with a gold ring.
I couldn’t go to school because he didn’t want anyone questioning my face.
My so called beautiful face…his face…I hate my reflection.
I only see him and all the scars he left on it. 
My eyes swollen and puffy from the tears.  I still see the ring in the corner of my left eye.
We have the same nose with the slight bump at the top.
I hear “bitch, slut, stupid, dumbass, wasted sperm, mistake.”
All this pain hidden behind my perfectly straight pearly whites. 
It’s funny how a little smile can hide so much.         About the Author:My name is Amelia. I am a free-thinking writer who uses poetry as an outlet for depression and anxiety. I have been through a lot of ups and downs trying to find my passion and purpose in life. Writing has been a judgement-free zone for all of the negativity in my world and the world we live in. My hope is to share my thoughts for others to know that they are not alone in going through life’s challenges. Always remember to smile. Enjoy.
    

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