my rebel

by xara

he sits in tubs where the water was red

two months ago

now, the water is warm and running and pale

there are sighs as he smiles. no more smiles while he sighed

she, now wears her sleeves all the way up

and her headscarf on the ground

'I'll put it on when i want to, '

he sees the platters laid all over the table

a feast for kings which he once was

he sits still takes a small portion

this is enough for today,

'no, not any more' she wails

when she sees her bring her hand down, ladle gripped hard

'please.' she begs

but its not always

that the good wins

it loses; and she learns she teaches herself

to get up.