Zeinab El Darwish

zZeinab El Darwish

Just another poetry enthusiast born in the wrong generation. 

Passionate about film, theatre, music, and I kind of plan on leading a revolution one day.
I’m also in a constant process of self discovery, and a constant embrace of the chaos within.
“Share your vibe”



Edition II

The Revelation - by Zeinab El Darwish (Photo by Odette Scapin)Photo credit: Odette Scapin

The Revelation

By Zeinab El Darwish

I gaze at you now and I see heaven’s work
drowning in hell’s deepest holes
under headlines of agony

The palm of my hand reaches out
to caress your cheek
but you turn your head the other way

Like a snake wrapped tightly around your neck,
you pull on your hair in attempt to escape the vicious words
displayed like banners through the shadows of your open mind

The venom travels through every vein
and your once red fluid turns blue
and it floods onto the portraits of hope that no longer exist

My eyes insist on witnessing the destruction of your empire,
the crumble of your bones
and ultra-violent split of your flesh

Your ribcage slams open like the gates of Babylon
unleashing imprisoned stray hummingbirds deep inside a demolished haunted house
once known as shelter

Those birds you are no longer familiar with the tune of,
similarly to the way colors became old news,
for you could no longer see yellow post-dry up of sunflower petals

Same way the clouds formed an upgraded version of the Great Wall of China over your sun
5 AM sunrises were only another reminder of loneliness
and it didn’t even matter what your first grade art teacher had taught you
the only rainbow you knew involved different shades of black,
each one a little bit darker than the previous

And so your crystals crash onto the firm earth,
despite my mother’s requests not to approach shattered glass barefoot
I hastened to pick up the innumerable pieces endeavoring to stitch you whole
but the puzzle was way too bewildering.

So I paused for a moment to breathe in the sight, it was all too familiar.

My mother once warned me to be careful when trying to fix a broken person,
for you may cut yourself on their shattered pieces

But when both are already crippled,
perhaps there is nothing to fear

Perhaps the energy ignited between the touch of our fingers could light up the entire galaxy
with the reflection of our broken glass facing one another

Perhaps the combination of my broken and your broken
could be the best creation of all time

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