YET IT SOUNDS LIKE ME!!!

By Amer Mayen Dhieu, Brisbane

Don’t know where it came about
Don’t know how it came to existence
But it has become my cage
Somewhere that I am separated from my wisdom
I have been robbed of my dreams
For there is darkness with strength
That forbids me from reaching my thoughts
Yet it sounds like me.

I feel like I don’t know what I am robbed of
For everything seem to be missing
My memories are distorted
Can’t remember all my interests
I am seized by unforeseen number of changes
Changes that have powers all over me.
Yet it sounds like me.

I love “black” colour for it suits me perfectly
Because I am black but that is not why I like it
Historically, in ancient societies
Black has always been a close cousin to sadness
Over million of people in the world, wear black to demonstrate sadness.
Yet that doesn’t sound like me.

I love black because I am all black
My dreams are black
My goals are black
My room is black
Even my little white Teddy Bear has gone black
Yet it sounds like me.

As I lie in my fatal little room
I position myself every evening
To stare at the dark corner
Recently built in my room
It is beautiful!
It is where my wisdom, my thoughts and my strength are buried
And it is where my eyes will forever gaze
For I have lost something significant in it
Yet it sounds like me.

My bones ache because my soul cries
My thoughts have scattered because consciousness has left me
My knowledge left me because my wisdom have gone
I am plain black young woman
That will return plainly
The empty she came
The empty she returns
Yet it sound like me.

‪#‎Dedicated‬ to people with Cardiovascular diseases