Not Heard

by nourayasmine   Sep 10, 2019

I don't usually pray.

But tonight, the hospital was crowded
with begging eyes. The bomb wasn't
as heavy as we feared, but nor was its
victim. The 26.4 pound angel needed
two bags of blood.

I never pray.

While he was in the ER, I imagined his body,

the tiny lines behind his
neck where the skin smells of holiness.

I imagined him on the beach, playing
with sand, laughing to the sun.
I imagined him at school, pronouncing
a long word for the first time, learning to tie
his shoes, waving keenly at his parents
on a school event day.

Couldn't god imagine this with me?
How could it even be possible to think that
he might get under the ground, that his eyes
might dry out, that his lungs might rot,
that his pulse might lose its way?
In that moment, my lips didn't move,
my eyes were focused on the ER door,

my whole body shouted with prayer,
except for my tongue.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Abed

    Beautifully put

  • 1 year ago

    by Michael

    So very sad, but so well written and well done, M

  • 1 year ago

    by silvershoes

    Gut-wrenching and powerful.

  • 1 year ago

    by Glenn G

    This is a beautiful piece. No innocent people should ever be caught in the ignorance of someone else's stupidity and violence.

  • 1 year ago

    by Lost One

    I can't really put to words the emotions this stirred in me.

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