Poetry by a a khaliq

the thing is, none of it is worth dying for,
not the drums or the pamphlets or the
charismatic man with the mustache or
the way silence cracks on your eardrums
after you realize you are alone in the dark.
not the frequency that buzzes and chisels
at you or the tears dripping down your chin
while the midwest whips by in the window
at 85, but really 90 something miles per hour.
no, it’s not worth it, in the end. not because
you’ll see a rainbow striped hot air balloon
or sniff a dizzying new perfume or someday
have a kiss that feels like coming home after
a walk in the pouring rain with no umbrella
not even a jacket. not because you’ll hear bells
and the better tinkling sound of the girls’ laughter
and the just as good in a different way sound of
a sweet chubby-cheeked little creature babbling
a tender sound that means you, you, you. no,
there is no secret, no patience or golden promise.
there is just you, rooted into the earth, twined up
in it, so knitted and knotted. how could you go off
without some grand cascade? you’re life itself.

a a khaliq is a poet and medical student from the midwest. you can find her on twitter @aw0000ga.

Photo by Ryan James Christopher on Unsplash