when people ask me what i do…

August 10, 2009 § Leave a comment

When people ask me what do I do, I want to tell them this, I cleave, I leave. I say awkward goodbyes at ill-timed moments and then slip into the taxi and ride away relieved. When people ask me what have I learned, I tell them that all i know for sure is that cleaving is painful and that pain is why most of us do not choose to travel too far from home. I tell them that mothers and their children are the most vulnerable people during war. It is the women, the surviving mothers who must flee with their children, and become refugees in someone else’s land, who are captured by the conquerors and taken far away home after being raped while their young children sat on the floor blinded by the evil smoke. We split apart, we cling together, we do both at the same time. We, women, cleave. We do what we have done since before history, we run away, we run toward, but sometimes we just run in circles, exhausted but too afraid to stand still for a moment, because stillness means death and we are determined to survive.


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