I Don't want

I don’t want to see any more death.
Take those bodies
away from me.
Those hands…
those faces…
disappearing
in a wreckage
of flesh.

I don’t want to see any more death.
My blood —
has gone cold.
My forehead…
is old,
wrinkled
as twitching thoughts,
freeze my pain

I don’t want to see any more death.
Bury the children first.
Bring an embroidered cloth.
Cover their faces…
their hair…
their hands.
I don’t want to see more death.
Men —
carrying blood
in their trousers.
Women —
tightening
soaked coats.
I don’t want to see more death.
I thought…
I could grow vegetables.
Admire the artist,
for their inspiration.
I thought…
there would be time.
Time to plan for tomorrow.
To dine with friends.
To attend a festival.
To remember…
my childhood.
I do not want to see any more death.
And yet…
it jumps
into my eyes,
and buries itself
in my throat.
I do not have any whys
to excel.
But Gaza.