Hand Me a Knife

Hand me a knife

for my skin will not shed.


Hand me a knife

for the roots of my loneliness has reached the tips of my toes

and beyond

tangling with the roots underneath the earth.


Hand me a knife

for I am an artist

and would like to draw a straight line.


A sharp one please

to cut myself out of this skin

for it is too tight.


A poke

a nudge

a break through

then comes the blood



And, oh!

I have cut myself.


Shaikha ALsuwaidi