khamsa fi ainek
"Five fingers in your eye"
Repeated over and over, more an antropaic mantra than aspirational,
more for personal persuasion than to ward off any potential aggressor.
You may say I am a cynic, shaking your head slowly, thinking to yourself,
'she'll never find peace with that metaphorical gun underneath her pillow'
Because protecting yourself from something only slightly probable may seem counter-productive
You may think me naïve, childish, in my quest to avoid potential, future damage.
And I tried to shed that extra layer; that thick, slippery skin.
I burnt the pages I wrote, buried the hatch, kept my eyes focused on the horizon without looking back.
But the past caught up and snatched me back, kicked me in the gut and laughed me in the face.
- you thought you were safe, didn't you?
Pushing my head down, keeping it under the surface.
and nazars in my ears, because I am not ready.
Not ready to stand there again.
Naked, open, ready to take all that life gives, without any protection.
And no matter if talismans of imaginary armour are just a cheap kind of placebo.
Bohemian, vagabond, maverick.
These are the words I wrap around myself so that I believe them.
So that you believe it, too.
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