Ballerina

She lacked a sewing kit
To piece herself back together
The threads ran free
She looked for a lost tether
As she unraveled
She knew She might get lost
And what another move could cost
She spun
Until she vanished in thin air
The ballerina could no longer care
About what tied her to this realm
And she set herself free
From all of them
Of threads too thin and shoes too tight

The ballerina still dances through the night

On a stage of her own making

Picturesque

A vague memory


A picturesque scene


As the world was ending


I dared to dream


Of the life I have now


Of what seemed so out of reach


The image solidified


As I laid on this beach

…….

If you know my story, you know that I was born in Iraq and escaped the war around 2008. I feel so blessed by the small things and the big things in my life right now. Grateful for it all.

Here’s some AI art of my creation inspired by this poem. Going from war to calm.