tonight, the obsidian sky looks like
a charcoal bun with diamond sesame seeds.
it is quieter than usual, or has the night
decided to go on mute?
the wind has forgotten its inhaler
because I can’t even feel its breath blowing softly on
my cheeks, trying to make me feel the cold rush,
or softly brushing my hair, untangling the stubborn knots that my
as the silence continues, chaos unleashed
inside my mind bombards each empty brain
space with questions that I do not have answers:
are there piranhas swimming inside my tubes?
are there barricades that need breaking?
for 1,095 days I’ve listened, I’ve waited
and with day’s end I could hear the cry
of my faint heart growing louder and louder
pleading to hear that beautiful sound
of a tiny heartbeat.
Naddy Zahari, KL.