the ceiling

because the war started on my 25th birthday...

i can't

my house has
divided against itself

my ceiling
is now
my floor

the cobweb i used to stare at
before i fell asleep
is now inches
from my nose

i can't see.
there's something
in my eye...

i can't hear my children
maybe they are finally

none of us
have slept for years.

we cough
laugh sometimes
but rarely sleep.

feast or famine
chaos or silence
our nerves are altered
deafened by necessity

isn't there only so much
a man can take?

i want to roll over
but there's the ceiling--
and something cramping
my thigh

no pain yet...
so i must be high on adrenaline
or losing blood...

i can see the
colors of aminah's favorite toy
in the corner

...oh, wait.
how'd the wall get back
the way it was?

never mind...just an illusion.

my prayer rug
is it still by the bed?

my wife should be home
in time for prayer.

she'll see the ceiling
and fuss
we must still
have prayer.

there is so much
to be

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