Day 25: The Man Who Waited For A Heart ~ Alyah Al Aswad
He lays on a stretcher,
with the same poise it requires to sit at a Parisian cafe,
understanding a newspaper he cannot read,
waiting for a woman to walk his veins into red carpets.
He is in his 37th year.
He likes shopping for kitchen appliances,
and when he’s in love,
he handles his insecurities as wallpaper,
so one naked girl inside the box can be in the know,
and he hoped one day his box would be enough to make a home.
He believes in heartbreaks,
He breaks down while making love,
because his big love ran away with
his lifetime, and his unnamed kids
and left him with nothing;
other than heart malfunctions.
People love,
the get sick sometimes.
He lays on stretcher,
with the nervous smile you find in grocery shops on Thanksgiving mornings,
and the joy of little people the height of turkey freezers.
He wanted a couple of those - he wanted them to grow under his Christmas tree.
He used to wait for people,
But he no longer qualifies as a bachelor,
he just qualifies for insurance;
and it makes him feel like a sour cup of yogurt.
Today, he waits for things people at hospitals wait for;
a cup of coffee,
jello,
with the same poise it requires to sit at a Parisian cafe,
understanding a newspaper he cannot read,
waiting for a woman to walk his veins into red carpets.
He is in his 37th year.
He likes shopping for kitchen appliances,
and when he’s in love,
he handles his insecurities as wallpaper,
so one naked girl inside the box can be in the know,
and he hoped one day his box would be enough to make a home.
He believes in heartbreaks,
He breaks down while making love,
because his big love ran away with
his lifetime, and his unnamed kids
and left him with nothing;
other than heart malfunctions.
People love,
the get sick sometimes.
He lays on stretcher,
with the nervous smile you find in grocery shops on Thanksgiving mornings,
and the joy of little people the height of turkey freezers.
He wanted a couple of those - he wanted them to grow under his Christmas tree.
He used to wait for people,
But he no longer qualifies as a bachelor,
he just qualifies for insurance;
and it makes him feel like a sour cup of yogurt.
Today, he waits for things people at hospitals wait for;
a cup of coffee,
jello,
a transplant surgery,
or the nearest exit.
or the nearest exit.
This blog documents the memoirs of a Queer Arab Muslim Woman, who holds an interest in the advancement of LGBTQ awareness within Middle Eastern societies. Alyah Al Aswad is a young writer, activist, poet and spoken word artist, based in Amman, Jordan. For bookings, interviews and blog sponsorship inquiries, please contact the author at riversoulx@gmail.com.
