My Ameen.

Do you know what it feels like to have two hearts?

Your pain and laughter dependent on unborn energies 

I came back for you 2,872 miles for you

Pausing the war against myself, to love you completely

But you will never know this. 


I stood watching the tubes in his face 

And the hole in her heart

Kept separate in plastic cages

It was the furthest you had felt in seven months 

But you will never know this.


There were more wires and iv’s than you had veins

More sounds on the monitor to worry about than be grateful 

The EKG causing our pulse to spiral

So much burden we placed on your little shoulders to survive

But you will never know this.


You are now turning 1 year.

With crawls and smiley screams you greet me 

He rubs his face against mine to say: i love you

And she caresses it slowly: probably to remind me i’m late again. 

And I will always tell you this.


My Ameen; your parents named you with purpose

But you are not your parents 

I will teach you to ask where, when others are in pain, and not why

I will teach you to love in a way that feels unconditional 

I will teach you that your survival is meant for only you.

And I will always tell you this.


I have chosen to spend my days with you from free will

Though your grandparents presented ultimatums 

I stood gladly, eye to eye, smiling as i traded in my riot gear for a trojan horse

What they celebrate as surrender i interpret as a key to stop the cycle

Because sometimes the wombs we come from do not protect us

And I wish i could tell you this.


Sometimes little feet and hands made of our own flesh, turn to accidental weapons

They draw blood, once we learn it is actually thinner than water

And the grief of bandaging will fall upon you, as it did me. 

But you did not survive these 12 strong months for me to allow this

And i did not fight for my whole life from these same people to not protect you 

And i wish i could tell you this . 



I was a sister who once had a brother I loved too

He taught me things I am still unlearning

But now he is known as your father

And the agony of this hits me while i am rocking you to sleep, 

The tears flow like rivers when I am changing both his children's mess 

For a biweekly check and passive aggressive interactions. 


I was a sister who once had a brother I loved too

He took my body piece by piece since I was four years old

And my sense of self in consecutive sentences until i turned 11

Ancestral incest allowed him infiltrate without guilt 

Because lineage serves as justification for entitlement. 


I want to scream to you: “I WAS A SISTER WHO ONCE HAD A BROTHER TOO!”

But you will never know this

For the day will come and I will have to leave to start my own family...

And I wish I could tell you this. 

Erased as the queer auncle, i will become a memory you eventually forget.

But until then M*** and A***, I love you I will ALWAYS tell you this. 

Saara W. Majid