Soma Salah
i came here to iraq not fully knowing what was lying in my near future.
i came with as much knowledge as could be gleaned by such a distant learner.
i imagined desserts with hot suns.
i imagined a seemingly endless sky.
i imagined sand. and dust. and wind.
i imagined mountains and ridges with sunrises and sunsets over these mountains and ridges.
.
what i did not imagine were the valleys.
the valley i now find myself in.
the valley that is dark and cold.
…two words which now seem as foreign to me as once did kurdish.
the sun seems more distant than it once did.
the overwhelming warmness of it has retreated with it,
leaving me in a place i did not forsee in my plans to travel here.
life is hard.
and painful here.
this valley knows little of adventure, photography expeditions, or laughing at some strange food.
this dark and removed path i now find myself on has been lined recently with the bones of dead children.
…yet even these are not what most troubles me.
what is worse….
what is indescribably worse
is when its not their bones i see, but their faces….their living faces, following me with their eyes as i walk further on this path…….as they wait to die.
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