poetry archive: to a comrade

I wrote this poem in New Orleans.

ya, habibi
today is the day of my freedom.
i will not be you,
i cannot be you,
i will not be you,
i refuse.

i breathe out your poison
and fill my lungs,
my mouth,
my bloodstream,
my roots,
with joy.

i release you
to your own suffering
i know you will be fine on your own,
look how much you’ve done already.

i am not afraid
to go out into the world,
lighter,
on my own.

i will rebuild.
with these new lungs i will breathe
in
the tear gas
and feel no pain.

with these new eyes i will stare
directly
into the sun,
into the face of the beast,
and every other
minor beast —
such as yourself —
unflinchingly.

with these new feet i will continue
to wander the world
and build homes
in each place.

i will not try
to make myself your home
any longer.
i let you go.
i can tell
that you don’t want a home
anyways.

i am not afraid,
because
this pen is my weapon,
and with it i am strong,
and i am not alone —

–and neither
are you,
and so
i am not afraid.

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About mirit mizrahi

artist, writer, activist, giant. זהירות! אני מזרחית
This entry was posted in poetry archive. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to poetry archive: to a comrade

  1. Pingback: three numbered poems | mirit writes

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